


Midwinter Exchange

by adeclanfan



Series: The Midsummer Chronicles [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Rating: M, Rating: NC17, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeclanfan/pseuds/adeclanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A plan to journey to the Elvenking's Halls and invite Legolas for a short vacation in Lothlorien goes awry and leaves Haldir stuck in Mirkwood with the last person he wanted to spend two weeks with, haughty King Thranduil. Thranduil has his own problems, because he had discovered a kinslayer poisoning Elves in the Woodland Realm. </p><p>Very very naughty. Not for the faint of heart, or those under 18yo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What is the meaning of this?” King Thranduil gestured to the group of half a dozen Elves being led up the twisting path to the base of his throne. "Am I to have unexpected visitors in the depths of winter, now?"

A tall, dark haired warrior separated from the group and stepped forward to face Thranduil, looking up with a hint of a smile. He bowed to the King, respectfully. “My Lord, I am Elladan, son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. My brother and I are wintering in Caras Galadhon and we would be honored if you would give your blessing for Legolas to join us for the celebration of the solstice. The Woodland Prince would be an honored guest for the Feast itself and the activities in the days before and after.”

The other twin joined his brother, offered a respectful gesture of fist to chest, and added, “The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien asked us to bear the formal invitation ourselves, as we are his friends.”

Thranduil regarded them with cool, expressionless calculation. His eyes were not on the twins as he asked, but on a face in the group standing directly behind them. The King’s posture stiffened and his eyes narrowed in recognition. “How is it you came to be 'friends' with my son?” 

Elladan did smile, now. “We met Legolas in Rivendell when he was a guest of our father. He was traveling with a Ranger, the son of Arathorn, who was raised as a ward of Lord Elrond after the deaths of his father, and later, his mother.”

This information got a reaction from the cold, pale haired King. His thick eyebrows drew up in surprise, "Strider was raised in Rivendell?”

“Yes, my Lord. He is as a brother to us,” Elrohir told him.

Thranduil considered their words. “Legolas has been out on a long patrol, but he is expected back soon. Guest rooms will be prepared for you and the members of your company.” 

It was strange, but as Thranduil said the word ‘company’ his eyes once again found the ellon behind Elladan, giving him the urge to turn and see who captured the King’s attention. He didn’t give in to the urge, though, as someone who knew well not to show his back to the most dangerous person in a room. 

“We will discuss the invitation in further detail after his return. Warm yourselves and rest. Winters on this side of the Anduin can be unforgiving.” Something in the way he said the last word made a small shiver run down Elladan’s spine. 

Fear was a sensation he hadn’t acknowledged feeling toward another Elf in hundreds of years, but something about Thranduil reminded him of the tales of terrifying wild beasts soldiers shared around patrol fires to scare the young ones into extra vigilance. “You are both kind and generous, my Lord. We will await your convenience,” Elladan managed to say.

Thranduil’s lips quirked. “Generous, I can be. Kind is something yet to be seen in this matter.”

They were led away, and one of their company, a seasoned warrior with a long scar on one cheek, sighed loudly once they were out of the King's hearing, “The King is even more beautiful than Legolas, and I thought no one could possibly be more fair than he.”

“If you like Kings carved from ice,” Haldir said, quietly. 

The twins turned to look at Haldir in unison, matching expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces. Elrohir said, “It was you the King was looking at with an unsettling amount of interest...”

Haldir frowned, shrugging his shoulders to relieve the tension in them. “The King and I are not unknown to each other. It was not my choice to join you in this adventure. My Lady Galadriel asked me to make this trip at her pleasure.” 

“And your peril?” Elrohir asked, the irony of Haldir’s statement not lost on him.

Their blonde friend shouldered past them, scowling, and following the liveried servant to their rooms, but under his breath, he added, “A small peril… one can hope.”

Elladan noted the vigilant way Haldir’s eyes sought to memorize details, mapping their journey in his mind’s eye, as they took twisting path after path within the cavernous Halls Legolas called home. 

Each member of their party was shown a room along a single corridor, except Haldir. The news, delivered with a wan smile by the nervous servant, caused the normally confident soldier to wince, but he nodded and followed the servant to a guest room in a second passage which connected to the other at a right angle and was a few steps deeper underground. He wasn't far from his comrades, but it was far enough to add to the unease of the entire company.

_+_+_+_+_+_

“I think bringing Haldir into the Elvenking's Halls was a mistake,” Elladan told his brother when they were alone. 

Elrohir nodded, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Haldir so visibly shaken, or agree to be separated from our company so… meekly.”

Elladan sighed, and started to pace the room’s perimeter. “You bathe first, I want to speak with Haldir. Quiet acceptance has never been a trait I’ve seen in him, and I have no issue admitting I'm worried about his state of mind.”

“We should share this room and Haldir could bed down in mine.”

“I’ll go fetch him back.”

When his brother returned a short time later, Elrohir was scrubbing his hair in the tub with herbal soap dotted with lavender petals. “Well?”

Elladan’s eyes narrowed to slits, an indication to his twin he was angry. “He doesn’t want your room. Haldir said he will stay in the room he was assigned.” Under his breath he muttered about stiff necks and pushing granite boulders up a hill.

“That’s odd. I wonder if he’s in need of a healer or something. Did he take a blow to the head?”

“Not one I can recall, but our mellon would never admit to it, even if he was in need of a healer.”

Elrohir nodded, “Stiff necked is the right of it.”

“We can only hope Legolas will sort this out when he gets back from his patrol.”

Elrohir finished his bath and dressed in extra layers of warm, clean clothes. 

A group of servants came in and emptied the tub and refilled it with fresh, hot water. 

Elladan stripped and settled himself in the tub with a happy sigh. “Where are you going, 'rohir?”

His brother threw him a grin, “Stubborn Haldir may not want to sleep with us, but he can’t stop me from crawling into his bed with him for a nap.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Elrohir smirked at his brother, “Because I am the smarter twin.”

“And the more modest twin, too.”

"Wake us when Legolas makes his appearance."

"I will."

"No, you won't. You'll try to keep him all to yourself."

"What makes you think so?"

Elrohir's smile widened, "You are the greedy twin."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Haldir?" Elrohir called, entering the room, but finding it empty. 

A familiar voice carried to him from within a darkened doorway tucked in a corner, "In here."

Elrohir found the doorway led to a set of stairs spiraling upwards to a landing with doors at both ends. The door at the near end was open and he stepped through it onto a large flat deck from which a stunning vista of the inside on the Elvenking's Hall spread out before them. 

Haldir stood resting his arms on the twisted, intertwined roots which served as the balcony's railing, looking down at the bustle of activity with no expression at all. His hair was plaited in a single braid down his back, something he did after bathing as a habit. HIs clothes were fresh and when Elrohir got closer he could smell the same lavender and herb soap, but it was mixed in a very pleasant way with the scent all Haldir, spice and herbs. 

"You smell wonderful, mellon," Elrohir said, wrapping his arms around the other from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. Casual intimacy was something they shared easily. It was harder for Haldir to find a comfortable connection with his twin, and that made Elrohir sad. 

The twins liked sharing a lover, but they'd never found one who didn't favor one twin over the other, and the relationships never seemed to endure.

"It seems my room has a view," Haldir told the other elf. 

"Have you tried the other door?" He gestured with a hand to the other door at the opposite end of the landing.

Haldir nodded, "Bolted from the other side."

Elrohir muttered his opinion of the situation in the most course terms, and sighed,"You can have my room, mellon. That way we can keep an eye on you, and make sure you don't do anything to cause an embarrassing diplomatic incident here in Mirkwood."

"As if I would do such a thing," Haldir sniffed. "You on the other hand... I can think of more than one time when..." 

Elrohir shut him up with a passionate kiss while turning him around and steering him back through the door and down the stairs to the bed.

After they exhausted themselves with passionate, playful sex, it was time for Elrohir to ask his lover the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. "What is between you and Thranduil?"

Haldir grumbled in his arms and turned onto his side, facing away from him. For a long time, the blonde ellon was quiet, to the point he thought the other man had fallen asleep, but finally he said, "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

"Thranduil? Yes, I suppose he is."

"The first time I laid eyes on him I was much younger and extremely foolish. He accepted the crown as King after his father died in battle, and I went with Lord Celeborn to the coronation. I wanted him. Desperately. Stupidly. I made my desire known, and the King threw it back in my face." Haldir was silent for a long time before he added, "Legolas is nearly as beautiful, but he's as green as I was back then. It's not simply Thranduil's face that haunts me, it's the idea of surrendering to him, 'Rohir. I want to be on my knees in his presence. I want to be disrespectful and earn punishment from his hand."

The son of Elrond knew Haldir was submissive to his grandfather in Lothlorien, so it wasn't a complete surprise to have his friend admit such a desire for another very old Elf from Doriath. "I have a feeling a punishment you'd earn from the King wouldn't be of a sort you would enjoy. I bet his dungeon cells are as cold as the Northern Wastelands right now." 

Haldir shivered and Elrohir pulled him close to share body heat between them. "Do us all a favor, mellon, and don't offer yourself to the pretty faced ice King a second time. He's a bit terrifying."

"Yeah, he is, isn't he?" 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Ah, go away, you're made of ice!" Haldir grumbled, wincing to be awakened by a new body fitted behind his in the bed. 

Long, blonde hair tickled his shoulder before Legolas' grinning face appeared above his. "It's bitterly cold today. You should feel the temperature outside the palace walls." His lips ghosted over Haldir's ear and cheek, moving until he could capture his lips. He hummed as he pulled back and said, "On second thought, just warm me up, and I promise to be very grateful."

Haldir rolled his shoulder back and half turned onto his back, so he could hold the Prince's head and pull him down for another kiss. "Just how grateful are we talking about, mellon?" He whispered against the other's perfect, chilly lips. 

Legolas grinned down at him, the insatiable hunger of last summer burning in his eyes. "As grateful as an ellon can be... Wood elves learn very early to generate extra body heat with friction."

"I'm not surprised with temperatures this low. How much heat could we generate with the friction of my cock in your ass, do you think?"

The Prince shrugged, "Some. It would make a good start, but it would have to be followed by an ejaculation hotter than molten steel, and possibly my cock being warmed in your ass, to be truly effective."

"Sounds like a perfect way to spend this night, but I think we'll be missed at dinner."

Legolas was not about to be dissuaded, "We have time."


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas managed to get the pair of them to dinner on time, but only just barely. The presence of his friends here in his home was surreal. For all the teasing, he never expected Haldir and Elrond's sons to make good on their promise to make sure he wasn't lonely and isolated, even in the Elvenking's Halls. 

The Prince's respect and admiration for his friends deepened with each passing minute.

The twins wore matching smirks for most of the meal. When they weren't flirting shamelessly with the serving girls and the young ellon refreshing the wine in their goblets, they turned their combined seductive powers on Legolas himself. His cheeks burned more than once from their thinly veiled innuendos. 

Legolas was amazed the King held his temper and seemed in good humor for having so many unexpected guests at this time of year. 

To his panicked dismay, the King wanted more details on Legolas' adventures in Rivendell. Though the Prince never kept anything from his father of his travels, or what he did at Midsummer. He made sure Thranduil heard all the important details from his own lips, and the King was adept at listening for the things his son didn't say. Those were the things he brought up, now, with Legolas' friends.

"You will find Silvan elves are very competitive in just about everything," Thranduil told them. "Competitions such as you've described at Midsummer in Rivendell are not unheard of here in my realm. When the snows are deep, my subjects get bored and restless. Which ultimately leads to children being born the next winter, of course."

Elrohir was paying special attention to one of the musicians, a pretty black haired elleth, and Thranduil caught him at it. "Have you no elleth of your own in Rivendell, son of Elrond?"

"I do not." 

The King looked from him to his brother and smirked, "I imagine such things would prove confusing to ellith."

Elladan laughed, "Not so confusing as you would think, my Lord. We may appear identical of face and form, but we are different in our attitudes and tastes. I think of my brother as a mirror image of myself, everything in reverse. Complicated is what I would call our search for wives, or even just bed partners."

"My brother is right. Father despairs of ever having grandchildren from either of us."

Thranduil's eyes went to Legolas and he sipped his wine, but he didn't say anything about his son's prospects for giving him grandchildren to carry on their lineage.

"I was thinking our guests might enjoy a tour of the Halls, since it is far too cold today to venture outside," Legolas said, redirecting the conversation away from his sexual inclinations and lack of interest in a wife. 

The King nodded, "Yes, I think such a tour would be... enlightening."

For the first time since dinner started, Haldir spoke, asking Legolas, "Are we really underground? Or is this place only meant to give the impression of such?"

Thranduil surprised everyone by answering himself, "We are indeed underground. My halls were constructed in a system of natural thermal vent caves, tunnels were added to the existing structures. There are many levels to the Halls, and the gardens are impressive, even in the depths of winter." His tone was stiffer when he addressed Haldir, than when he spoke to the sons of Elrond, like it was an effort to speak to Haldir.

"From what we have seen, so far, your Halls are impressive, my Lord," Haldir admitted to the King. 

Legolas grinned at him. "You haven't seen anything, yet." 

"One tour will hardly cover the palace grounds," Thranduil told them. "It would take a full week to see the entirety of the Halls from top to dungeons."

Haldir winced at the mention of dungeons and Legolas wondered if he should take the blonde ellon down there for a private tour later. It was rarely occupied by anyone, and they could get some time alone. It could be fun. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The King's silent appearance on his balcony wasn't a total surprise to Haldir. Thranduil spotted him up there a short time after dinner, while he was waiting for the others to get ready for the tour of the Elvenking's Palace. 

The balcony was fast becoming Haldir's favorite spot. A constant feeling, in his room, of being watched left him ill at ease and he hoped Thranduil enjoyed watching his son have sex as much as Haldir enjoyed spending the time before dinner getting reacquainted with Legolas' perfect body. Something about this place left him with an unshakeable sense of dread, and the feeling was not something to which Haldir was accustomed. 

"Does Lord Celeborn think to turn my son into his new pet?" Thranduil asked Haldir pointedly, as they stood shoulder to shoulder and looked out over the Elvenking's Halls from their balcony.

Haldir's eyes narrowed at the slight on his Lord by the arrogant Woodland King. "Lord Celeborn does not keep 'pets'," Haldir spat back at him, bristling with indignation on Celeborn's behalf.

"Doesn't he?" Thranduil said, quietly. "Have you forgotten he offered you to me? The first time we met, in fact. I've never understood the games Celeborn likes to play, but I assure you he told me I was free to do with your body as I wished." The unreadable eyes turned and scrutinized every inch of Haldir from ears to toes. "I could have beaten you, or used you sexually against your will." His voice was laced with the icy disdain Thranduil had been aiming at Haldir since he arrived. "Why would Celeborn do such a thing?"

Haldir's shoulders sagged. Lord Celeborn had warned him Thranduil would misunderstand such an offer, and Haldir should have known better than to let his desire rule him. "Because I asked him to."

Thraduil's eyes widened in surprise, and then his dark brows drew down as he frowned at the other Elf. "Why?"His tone dripped with suspicion. 

There was nothing more Haldir wanted in that moment than to escape from the balcony, and the King's prying questions. He didn't want to admit to the awe and overwhelming desire he felt the first time he laid eyes on Thranduil, newly crowned King of the Woodland Realm, but to say those words would give Thranduil a terrifying advantage, and far too much power over their situation. Mirkwood was cold enough without more frigid scorn from it's beautiful monarch. 

"Why would you ask Celeborn to offer you to me?" Thranduil asked, again, patiently. "I don't need ropes or games to keep a lover in my bed, I assure you." Haldir shivered and the King smiled, "Spanking and other such petty games are the play of inexperienced children."

"I disagree," Haldir told him. "Nasque is an art form, long studied and even longer practiced, a delicate balance between pleasure and pain which takes finesse and control to achieve. To submit one's body to another is an honor, the symbol of a penultimate level of trust where permanent harm is unthinkable. Control through dominance and submission can be an addiction, a high better than even the best vintages of Dorwinion wine." He was thinking of all the times he'd placed himself in Celeborn's care and never once come away the worse for it, not implying he was asking such a thing of the one who stood with him now. 

The very idea of submitting to Thranduil didn't excite him, as it once had, it filled him with fear. Giving this King his body would be like trying to seduce a bear or a mountain cat, and he'd find nothing but claws and teeth for his troubles.

Thranduil studied him, a puzzled frown drawing his dark brows together, and said nothing further for a long time.

Haldir felt like he needed to fill the awkward silence with something... anything. "The incident was a very long time past and of no consequence here in the present." If he'd been smart, he'd have stopped while he was ahead, but after the arrogant digs at him and his relationship with Celeborn, Haldir ached to get in a shot of his own. "Legolas is nearly as beautiful, and it feels good to satisfy the needs he's been too long denied." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Haldir found himself slammed hard against the wall and pinned there by a furious Thranduil. "What do you know of Legolas and his needs? One Midsummer puhta does not make you an expert on my child."

It was difficult to speak with Thranduil's forearm across his throat, but Haldir managed to whisper, "I have seen all I need to know."

Thranduil glared at him, "What do you mean?" When Haldir didn't say anything further, the King released him and stepped back a pace to give him time to recover. "You will explain."

Haldir drew a trembling breath, hand going to his neck to rub away the lingering pain. He might actually have a bruise tomorrow. "It was supposed to be just a puhta, just yérë and nothing more. I accompanied Lord Celeborn to Rivendell expecting to despise Legolas, because he is your son, but I soon found it impossible not to be drawn to him," Haldir admitted. "Believe me, I tried. Instead, he fascinated me and... broke my heart. Against my better instincts, Legolas made me feel protective of him. My prejudices were unfair and should never have been directed at him. I pity him for having such a father as you."

"So, you presume to know me, as well?" Thranduil asked. 

"I know what I've seen and heard of you. And, I spent enough time with Lord Elrond to know what makes a good father. He and Lord Celeborn have both been my mentors in this Age, and I've seen them disapprove of the twins' lovers, but I've never known either of them to send one intentionally into harm's way."

The King turned away to look out over the railing. "What makes you so sure I have done such a thing?"

"Legolas believes it and his belief is enough for me."

Thranduil turned his head to pin Haldir with a dark look. "He said I've sent his lovers to their deaths?"

"The Prince said loving him, or even being intimate with him here in your Halls, is as good as a death sentence."

"Legolas is mistaken. I value the lives of my people too much to do something so... calculated and savage. I need every able body I've got and more besides." Haldir didn't want to believe the King protestations of innocence, but the shock and outrage at the very idea of such an act were there on his perfect face, alongside the pain of losing his son's respect and trust. 

A sneer tugged at the corners of Haldir's mouth. "You will find the new lovers Legolas has chosen aren't going to be so easy to dispose of. Elf-lords and Balrog-slayers and battle hardened warriors..."

"And you."

"I am certainly the least of those on such an esteemed list, but I have seen war and I have no intention of dying during my visit here and adding to the weight of the Prince's guilt." 

"Legolas blames himself for the deaths of these comrades?" Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly disturbed by the accusations leveled against him by his child. 

"He does. And that is wrong. If you are the murderer he thinks you are, then the guilt is yours alone. He should bear none of the stain of it. And yet, Legolas would rather forgo passion and pleasure altogether here in Mirkwood than put someone in danger," Haldir stated, awe and pride in his tone. "We have taken it upon ourselves to see to it he never again gets himself into such a state as he was in last summer."

Thranduil's eyebrows raised in puzzlement. "What state is that?"

It was hard to believe he didn't know, but perhaps he was blind to it. "Being starved for the feel of skin on skin," Haldir explained, patiently, "but awkward and uncomfortable with actually being touched, even in the most simple and innocent manner." He took a step back from the King before he dared to say what he was really thinking, "It is all well and good for you to be a cold corpse on your high throne, but Legolas is young, warm and very much alive. The Prince has needs that demand to be met."

"You assume much too much without any sort of evidence," Thranduil scolded him. "You seem to have plenty of opinions for someone who has not even spent two days in my Halls."

Haldir considered this and rejected it. "Who else would be in a position to harm the very people Legolas is closest to?" he demanded. 

The King raised an eyebrow, "Who indeed?" 

"Never fear, my Lord. We plan to be leaving tomorrow, and I will take my accusations and opinions back to across the Anduin with me."

Thranduil's expression hardened. "I am going to conduct an investigation, once I have spoken to Legolas about the facts in this matter. If someone is deliberately sending guards to die within my lands, I will know of it and those responsible will be dealt with." He hesitated, and then added, "I appreciate your informing me of this matter, and for bring your own potential targets for such an attacker."

"Are we to be your bait?"

"You will make the best bait, Haldir, as Legolas obviously enjoys your company most of all." 

Haldir's eyes widened at the back handed compliment, and the knowing smile on the King's face. It confirmed his suspicions about being spied on. How else would he know Legolas favored Haldir over the twins? 

The King wasn't quite finished, "A word of warning for you. Do not drink anything from a cup offered by an elleth other than a servant during your stay." His expression changed to something like concern, but with a healthy dose of chagrin as he added, "Pale haired babes are a highly sought after prize here in the Woodland Realm. A love potion was only slipped to Legolas once, and the culprit was punished harshly, but you are not Legolas. And as I said, I need every Elf I can get, and more will be need to be born in the coming decades, to defend our home from the threat Sauron's return poses." 

Haldir was momentarily stunned, but he quickly recovered himself, "Not just bait for your trap, but a stud for your stable of warriors, as well? I don't think this is what my Lord and Lady had in mind when they asked us to deliver the invitation to the Prince."

Thranduil smirked, tapping his chin with a long finger, "You are not unattractive. Had you but asked plainly for sex on that day long ago, I very well might have bedded you." The appraising look the King gave him made his guts twist uncomfortably, like Haldir had swallowed a live trout and it was swimming around in circles in his belly. "I was pleasantly intoxicated and had no lovers to share my bed."

Under his breath, Haldir mumbled, "Too late."

"Is it?" Thranduil asked, very quietly. He followed the question with slow, deliberate movements as his hands found Haldir's shoulders and gently backed him against the wall. "I'm not so sure your desire for me is as in the past as you want to believe. You did imply you believe I am more beautiful than my son."

Even in Lothlórien, Haldir wasn't the tallest of Elda, but facing down Thranduil he felt small. He looked up into those ice blue eyes and had to work at suppressing a shudder. Thranduil's hands moved up from his shoulders to the sides of Haldir's face and then he did tremble as the King's mouth came down hard on his. The kiss demanding and claiming until the King chose to let him go and Haldir found himself at a loss for breath. "There is no reason for you and your companions to hurry off. You should stay for a few days and enjoy the hospitality of my Halls."

The King walked away from him, down the corridor and out the previously bolted door on the opposite end of the landing. He closed the door and bolted it with a thump behind him, and Haldir sighed with relief to be alone again. The last thing he wanted was to be this effected by Thranduil after all this time.


	3. Chapter 3

"I would have a word with you in private, Legolas," the King said, appearing outside the door to the main Hall at the conclusion of their tour of the Palace. 

Legolas nodded, "Of course, my Lord." Excusing himself from the jovial group of visitors from Lothlórien, but noting their looks of concern, he followed obediently behind his father. Once they were alone in the King's private study, Legolas could feel tension crackling like heat lightening in the air between them. 

The King regarded him icily for several minutes, studying him like someone he didn't recognize. "Do tell me what leads you believe I have had a part, large or small, in the deaths of any of my people, specifically those whom you've invited to share your bed."

Legolas pursed his lips because couched in such blunt terms, it seemed a heinous crime for him to accuse the King of committing, nearly tantamount to the kinslayings of old. "My Lord..." Legolas began. 

Had one of his visiting friends actually mustered the courage to put forth the charge against the King to his face? Legolas couldn't decide if such an act was brave, foolish or some combination of both interwoven with a healthy dose of idiocy and far too little regard for how dangerous King Thranduil could be when he deemed violence necessary.

Thranduil's dark brows drew down in irritation, eyes flashing with anger. "Has your respect for me eroded so completely, Legolas, you would take such grave suspicions to strangers before you would speak of the matter to your King... A King who also happens to be your sire?"

"I have succeeded in gathering nothing you would accept as proof," Legolas stated, in his defense. "My gut instincts, though strong from long service as a warrior in this realm, fall short of definitive proof of malicious intent by someone within your Halls, my Lord. I have a dark suspicion certain patrol routes within our borders are not being maintained, areas which are necessary to the safety of our realm and all those who live within it, not merely those whom I favor with deep friendship or passion." He paused, and as an afterthought, the Prince added, "I spoke with the new Captain about the routes after the first deaths occurred, but every objection I raised was met with thinly veiled contempt and empty assurances by Feren. Or implications that I should mind my own business."

The King frown deepened. "And you felt if you brought your concerns to me, it would seem as though you were merely defending Tauriel's record out of loyalty and... your personal feelings for her."

"No one died on Tauriel's watch," Legolas pointed out, testily. "Six of our best archers have died since Feren was promoted to Captain after Tauriel's banishment." The word tasted like ashes on his tongue still. "Our lands are less safe than they have ever been, and the assignments which prove most often fatal have fallen to ellyn who happened to be my lovers."

Thranduil's lips tightened into a flat line as he weighed Legolas' claims against the Captains' weekly reports. "So it may seem, I'm sure. Though it is far more likely you seek only the most fierce, and reckless, warriors for your pleasure."

Legolas tossed his head in silent frustration and drew himself up to his full height, shoulders stiff with indignation at his father's too personal commentary on his choice of ellyn. He bit his tongue hard, tasted blood and bile.

"Do you ever plan to forgive me for banishing Tauriel?" the King asked, surprising the Prince with the quiet, musing tone of the question. 

Several cutting retorts came to mind and were promptly discarded as too disrespectful, in their place Legolas said simply, "I have tried."

"She may yet reside in Middle Earth," Thranduil assured him. "I would be informed if Tauriel, or any of my wandering elves, were found dead. At the very least, her body would be returned to us."

The room felt as if it were falling down around him, Legolas turned his back to the King and fought desperately not to lose control of the pocket of seething, impotent grief he kept in his heart, a festering wound. If she was dead, it was King Thranduil's fault for banishing her, and he wasn't sure it was possible for him to forgive his King for that. As to the rest, Legolas would never believe Tauriel dead until he held her lifeless body in his arms. 

Did that mean he expected to ever again see his fierce, flame-haired archer love? No. Why? In his travels with the Rangers of the North, and as diplomatic envoy to many lands on behalf of King Thranduil and the Woodland Realm, Legolas had never once come across even a single clue to tell him where the elleth vanished to after attending the funeral for Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews. Tauriel simply disappeared without a trace, taking Legolas' heart with her. 

If he did find her, if the Valar in their mercy allowed their paths to cross, Legolas had a host of things to apologize to Tauriel for. So did their King.

"I have traveled to many places in Middle Earth, but I have not found a clue as to her whereabouts," the Prince confessed. 

"Pity." Thranduil sighed. "If you did know the location of my former Captain, or you encounter her in future travels, I bid you to tell Tauriel I have had a change of heart. Should she wish to come home, my Halls are once again open to her."

Legolas didn't know what to make of his father's 'change of heart' as most days he scarce believed his King had a heart to change, and if he were in Tauriel's place, the Prince would doubt the sincerity of the King's words and his welcome both. And yet, Tauriel had been highly favored by the King, despite her Silvan heritage and relative youth, to have risen to through the ranks so quickly and successfully. None had ever spoken against her, but Legolas had to wonder now if loving her, defending her had earned him an enemy within the Elvenking's Halls. 

"I'm not sure how I have given you the impression I disapprove of you taking elves to your bed, but nothing could be further from the truth. I will tell you much the same as I told the impertinent and vexing Marchwarden from Lothlórien. I value the lives of my people too much to send them to their deaths for simply rutting with you in the privacy of your quarters. This realm needs every elleth and ellyn we can raise and train if we are to continue." 

The King poured himself a goblet of wine from the sideboard. "If there is a pattern to the deaths, as you suspect, or the current Captain's patrols are indeed falling lax in certain areas within our borders, this is deeply troubling and bears swift, thorough investigation. Do others have the authority to order specific guards to new assignments other than Feren and myself?"

Legolas considered this, and shook his head once slowly side to side. "No. The guards have all died under Feren's direct leadership."

"Perhaps a change is needed, no matter the outcome of my investigation," Thranduil said, then proceeded to drain his goblet dry. Once he'd refilled it, the King added, "Do you have someone in mind whom you think can be promoted as a replacement?"

"I will lead the guards myself, if none prove a suitable successor." An unintended edge of bitterness crept into his tone, and his words were sharper than he would have liked. No Captain would be as devoted in their service to the King and vigilant in her duties as Tauriel had been. 

Thranduil eyed him over the top of his cup, and then he placed the goblet down on the table and crossed the room to where Legolas had turned to gaze into the fire. "Your guests must be growing impatient for your return."

"Are you spying on Haldir, my Lord?" Legolas blurted out, as the thought occurred to him, the idea spurred by the King's mention of Haldir. 

His father huffed a laugh, and Legolas knew his suspicions were indeed correct. "What makes you think I would bother to spy on an archer from Lothlórien guesting in my Halls?" He added, "And if I were having him watched, who is to say he is not here gathering information on us for a report to his Lord and Lady, on our defenses and numbers, while he is here?"

"I'm sure he is. All our guests would be foolish not to be noting our strengths and weakness. Haldir's observations and opinions are highly valued by Lord Celeborn."

The King smirked, "You must be sure to show our guests the Royal Armory and Training Halls after they break their fast tomorrow. If the weather allows for you to venture out."

"There are many things I plan to show our guests." Legolas felt his cheeks heat as his mind's eye produced a few of those 'things', such as his private, very spacious bathing chamber and the balcony outside his bedchamber with the view of the winter gardens. Mental images of thick, soft furs, smooth skin and long, powerful limbs teased his private thoughts throughout the tour.

Thranduil's smirk grew into an almost smile, "The Marchwarden would appear to be a favorite or yours."

"It seems to me he is everyone's favorite, and with good reason. Haldir is very attractive. And he is as far from reckless as any I know." Legolas eyed his father, considering the solitary King's strange interest in Haldir himself. "He will eventually tell me what is between the two of you and why you are circling each other like elk at the start of the rut."

This brought another nearly soundless laugh from the King at his cheek. "I would be interested in his explanation myself."

"You could tell me your version, my Lord."

Thranduil shrugged his broad shoulders. "Nothing of interest has ever transpired between Haldir and myself." 

Legolas knew his Lord too well. There was a note of regret in his father's words which he found... Interesting. "Which of you regrets that more, do you think?"

"I give you leave to return to your guests, now."

The Prince nodded, and got almost to the door when he fired his parting shot, "If I were to wager, I would lay my gold it is Haldir who wishes most strongly something 'of interest' had happened between you." 

As he closed the door behind him, Legolas heard his father say, very softly to himself, "You would lose."

_+_+_+_+_+_

"Haldir is something wrong, my friend?" Legolas asked, when the look of surprise and concern cross the other's face as he stared down at the wine goblet in his hand.

A mixed company of courtiers and visitors retired to a large comfortable sitting room where a fire warmed them and laughter and wine flowed freely. The wood-elves were friendly and hospitable, and despite the warning from King Thranduil, Haldir found himself drinking more than he usually allowed himself. Or at least that was what he thought was the reason he was suddenly feeling lightheaded and confused, until the burn started in his groin, making the Elf shift uncomfortably in his chair. 

The temperature in the room seemed to grow more uncomfortably warm by the breath and the quickening beats of his heart. Had someone slipped something into his last glass of wine? "Too much wine," he told the Prince, with a look of chagrin. 

Legolas stood and helped him to his feet, "Well then, I suppose we should get you to your bed."

The twins were looking at them with interest, and Haldir didn't want to spoil their plans for Legolas. "I can manage, my Lord. It isn't the first time I've been in my cups." He offered the Prince what he hoped was a charming and reassuring smirk. "Please, stay and enjoy the night."

Legolas accepted his suggestion with an easy shrug, "Very well. Pleasant dreams, mellon."

"To you as well, Prince."

The way was deserted of possible assistance as Haldir struggled to get back to his rooms. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac in the wine made his steps unsteady and his breathing labored. His eyes wanted to close, and that was why he ran into what he thought was a wall, but was actually the chest of a tall, broad shouldered ellon. He stumbled backward and would have fallen flat on his arse had strong hands not gripped his upper arms and kept him upright. 

The King peered into Haldir's face, noted the flush to his skin and his disorientation. "Are you in your cups, Marchwarden?"

"The last goblet of wine. Tasted different. Hot. Dizzy." Haldir's words ended in a low moan, because the ache in his loins was becoming a unbearably insistent pounding with the beating for his heart and head. And the King's hands on him, his face swimming in Haldir's vision, intensified the hunger building in his clouded thoughts and swelling loins.

Thranduil's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion, "Who gave you your last cup?" he demanded. 

"Wasn't watching," Haldir grumbled. "Shoulda been more careful... not expecting something with Legolas sitting beside me." 

"Who would act in such a deplorable manner?" the King asked, rhetorically, but clearly upset. "I will have someone summon Legolas to your rooms."

Haldir's eyes widened in horror and panic. "No. I can take care of this without assistance. Legolas doesn't need to be my nursemaid. He deserves his fun."

The King rolled his eyes. "You do not yet feel the full effects of this retched brew. It is not a simple matter. You are going to need a large number of sexual releases before the effects are purged from your system. Legolas required the assistance of two healers and a night guard before he finally beat it. If not Legolas, then the Noldor twins..."

This brought an even more violent reaction from Haldir, as he wrenched his arms from the King's grasp. "NO."

A pair of servants passed them and the King stopped them with a look and a wave of his hand. "Which of you handled the wine tonight?"

They both looked from their Lord to Haldir and back in surprise and confusion, the nearest girl spoke for them both, "Neither, my Lord. We were tasked with preparing the bedchambers for the night."

The King nodded in satisfaction, and to the one who spoke he commanded, "Help the Marchwarden into his bed. His clothing will need to be removed for him, because he is in his cups rather deeply." To the other liveried girl, Thranduil said, "You will come with me. I will give you a list of items you will need to collect from the kitchens as quickly and discreetly as possible."

A guard stood further down the hall and Thranduil signaled to him as they passed him. "Help them to the guest suites and then stand guard outside his door. None but myself or this elleth are to be admitted. Not even the Prince or another guest from Lothlórien. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," the guard hurried to affirm. 

Haldir let himself be half-dragged, half-carried the rest of the short distance to his rooms. It was an effort to even stay upright by the time they reach their destination. The elleth's hands were maddeningly cool and gentle on his feverish skin. The state of his arousal made him his face flush with shame, but to her credit the servant didn't acknowledge Haldir's hardened state as she unfastened his garments and stripped him with efficient movements, then pulled back the furs on the bed, so he could slip between them. 

"Thank you," he told her, sincerely grateful for the help.

"You are not in your cups, my Lord, any more I am a dragon. You need a healer."

"Do not concern yourself any further," the King said, breezing into the room with an armful of items which he set on the bed opposite Haldir's prostrate form. "You may go, but speak to not a single soul of what you have seen. I would hate to have to punish you when you have performed your duties admirably."

"Of course, my Lord. Is there anything else you might require before I go?" Something in her voice told Haldir she didn't want to leave him alone with the King. 

"No. You are dismissed for the night to return to your rooms."

When she was gone and the door closed soundly behind her, the King stared down at Haldir thoughtfully. 

"What are you going to do?" Haldir asked the king. 

"If you will not allow for Legolas or one of your fellows to see to your satisfaction, the responsibility falls to me, but not in here I think. I've just now decided to move you to my rooms and set in this suite a trap for whoever drugged you." He pulled the fur covering back and scooped Haldir up, tossing his upper body over his broad, brocade covered shoulder and securing an arm behind Haldir's knees. 

It was in this unceremonious, and completely humiliating, way that the King transported Haldir up the secret staircase and into a corridor which lay beyond the door which Haldir had found to be bolted earlier. Another door and staircase climb took them directly into King Thranduil's private chambers. 

"Do you need to retch before I put you in my bed, Marchwarden?"

Haldir's head swam as he was righted, but the urge to sick up did not come as he feared it would during the two flights of stairs. "No."

"Excellent. I will only be gone a few minutes. I trust you will not go wandering while I set my trap?"

The furs on Thranduil's bed were even softer and finer than the ones on the guest bed and the mattress sank slightly under Haldir's weight, cradling his body and feeling beyond comfortable. "No," the Marchwarden sighed, contentedly. 

The King nodded and then added a second fur over the top of him before turning to go. 

Despite the painful, throbbing erection and the strangeness of the drugs taking over his system, Haldir felt himself slipping under into sleep.


	4. In the King's Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure Thranduil/Haldir sexytimes. You are welcome. Sorry it took so long. I wanted it to be perfect.

Thranduil's vision was tinged with the red of pure fury when he finally returned to his rooms up the seldom used servants staircase from the Marchwarden's guest suite. Removing his boots and outer robes, the latter of which he tossed carelessly over the back of a chair, the King approached his bed and the victim of someone's cruel prank lying in his furs. 

"I can hear your teeth grinding together," Haldir chided the King, smirking, but not opening his eyes.

Thranduil scowled down at him, "Someone in my Halls poisoned you. I believe I have more than earned the right to be enraged."

Haldir sighed. His hands moved under the furs, no doubt pleasuring himself in an effort to combat the maca's burning influence in his groin. "I was beginning to wonder if you might have done this to me yourself..."

This made a growl bubble up from deep in Thranduil's chest, "I have no need of roots and berries to enflame a potential lover." Even a hint of such an accusation wounded Thranduil's pride and sullied his honor. 

"Why bring me to your bed, then? If not to have your way with me, while I am in such great need of release?"

"I told you, once, must I repeat myself?" Thranduil rumbled, "I set a trap for whomever is fool enough to try to collect their prize from your bed." 

Thranduil removed his fine linen shirt, but chose to forgo removing his loose fitting leggings, as he had no intention of releasing his erection to satisfy his own desires at the expense of the drugged archer stroking himself in his bed. He lifted the top furs and slid into the waiting warmth behind Haldir, wasting no time fitting his body behind the other's. 

Throwing an arm over Haldir's middle earned him a murmur of approval which the King accepted with a smirk. 

The King removed the Marchwarden's from his erection, taking the warm flesh in a firm grip of his own which brought a lovely disgruntled sound from Haldir. "I am responsible for your predicament and you may rest assured I will see to your satisfaction." 

Halidir's breath left him in a hiss as Thranduil set the rhythm and pace of the strokes a bit more briskly than he himself had. He turned his head back toward Thranduil, making their long hair tangle between their bodies. "As good as this feels, I am still in command of my faculties enough to be loathe to accept pity sex, especially from you."

Thranduil pressed his cold lips against the warm shell of Haldir's ear and whispered, "Do shut up, Archer, and take your cure like a good soldier."

To this, Haldir bristled and tossed his head, "I hope you intend more than just a helpful hand." His hips bucked impatiently into Thranduil's fist.

"Patience, Marchwarden. I intend to bring you to completion many times before sunrise." To illustrate his point, Thranduil roughly circled the head of Haldir's penis with the pad of his thumb and smirked when this caused the other Elf to snarl like an animal while his fine example of Eldar maleness erupted hot seed all over the King's fingers. 

Never one to waste such a treat when offered, Thranduil released Haldir's penis to lap the salty cream from his knuckles, smacking his lips at the taste. "If we are counting... That is one."

With a grunt, Haldir rolled onto his side and attempted to sit up. 

"Where do you think you are going?" Thranduil eyed him.

The Marchwarden scowled. "To find my cure in a less contentious bed..." 

But just as Thranduil feared would happen, the maca made the archer's body heavy and disconnected from his brain's commands. 

When Haldir tried to stand, he only managed to lift his body from the bed about a hand span before his equilibrium failed him, and sent him roughly back down onto the soft mattress. 

Rather than mocking him for trying to escape, Thranduil instead pushed Haldir flat onto his back and straddled him, his large, ring adorned hands pinning the other man's wrists to the bed at either side of his head. "You are in no condition to go anywhere," Thranduil warned him. "Just relax and trust me to take care of you until this madness passes. Please." 

It was likely the edge of anxiety underlying the 'please' which managed to cut through the fog of stubbornness and frustration clouding the archer's thoughts.

Thranduil wasted no time capturing Haldir's lush mouth with his own and fighting down a wince at the bitter taste the maca left mingled on Haldir's tongue with the strong red wine. The two Elves battled with lips and teeth and tongues until the King finally kissed Haldir into panting, groaning submission. Haldir arched up under him as the kisses trailed hotly along his jaw and neck until Thranduil's mouth settled at the sensitive place where neck and shoulder are joined. Haldir's head fell to the side, giving the King access to the flushed, sensitive skin. 

"You see, Marchwarden..." Thranduil crooned. "This need not be as two Elk stubbornly butting heads. I am very much interested in your enjoyment. Too much time has past since I practiced my pleasuring skills." His hands released Haldir's wrists and started a sensual cataloguing of the muscles of Haldir's arms and shoulders and chest as he crawled and kissed his way down to the other Elda's belly and half erect organ. 

Giving pleasure was something of a point of pride with Thranduil, as a young Elf, his expertise was widely sought after. In the years just before he was forced to take up his dead father's crown, stories of his exploits approached legendary status. 

It was impossible to remain angry with his senses full of Haldir. He was too beautiful, and there was something deliciously sensual in the way he writhed and moaned under the King's hands.

Taking up a goblet, and filling it with chilled wine, Thranduil bent the other man's knees up and dribbled small amounts over the smooth, taunt skin of the Marchwarden's inner thighs. The wine he didn't get to immediately was lapped up from around the base of Haldir's cock and scrotum, in time, as well. 

This teasing game drove Haldir to distraction, and when Thranduil emptied the last of the wine directly onto Haldir's cock, he smirked at the cry that followed his tongue's journey into the valley between the firm globes of the Marchwarden's ass. 

In time, Thranduil replaced his questing tongue in Haldir's passage with a salve coated finger, and then two. Curving the digits upward, he sucked the archer's cock with renewed enthusiasm as his internal motions stimulated the magical spot within in time to rhythm of his suction. 

Twice Haldir tensed in preparation for climax, but Thranduil backed off each time until he was brought away from the edge, only to begin building his need to a peak, once again. The ellon cursed him in both Quenya and the most creatively filthy Sindarin for being a cocktease, but Thranduil didn't pay him any real mind. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

Haldir's moans changed to gruff, hoarse grunts, his movement's on Thranduil's fingers deliciously frantic, and that was what Thranduil had been building his body's response to. The orgasm, when Thranduil let it crest this time, went on for ages, his mouth filling as fast as he could swallow with more and more salty, bitter ejaculate until the ellon collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap. He managed to surprise the King when, as he curled on his side, Haldir mumbled, "Now, will you fuck me?"

Thranduil's mind stumbled over a suitable response. His body wanted nothing more than to roll the visitor from the Golden Wood onto his belly and slide into the slick, hot passage being so desperately offered. His sense of honor and his duty in this situation rose up to remind him this was not about the needs of his body, he was in the bed for Haldir's benefit, and it seemed too much like abuse to even seriously consider. 

The King pondered his options, knowing he bought himself at least an hour until Haldir would be ready for more sex. 

"Would you like a small amount of water to quench your thirst?" He quickly mounded the pillows at the head of the bed and helped the other man to sit up enough to accept the cup Thranduil pressed to his lips. Once Haldir drank his fill, Thranduil set the goblet aside. "Rest for a while," he commanded, his fingers brushing sweaty strands of hair back from Haldir's cheek. He noted the way Haldir's eyes never left his face. 

It was disconcerting, to say the least, to have the victim of this cruel prank so obviously smitten with him. A thought came to him, then. Something he remembered finding fascinating in the tales Legolas brought home for the sexual free for all he'd attended the previous summer in Imladris.

Leaning in to whisper hot breath against his ear, Thranduil asked, "Was it worth your punishments at Midsummer to be allowed to mount those so far above your station, Marchwarden? Did you enjoy rutting in Lord Elrond's willing body?"

Wide, startled eyes met his as he pulled back, and the King smirked. "What? You think Legolas wouldn't want to share tales from his trip with me? My son told me of his punishments for starting the festivities early, and daring to claim his betters. And he mentioned your blatant flaunting of convention with a considerable amount of awe and respect." 

"Legolas... he did?"

"Yes. It was clear from the way he spoke of you that he was also among the mighty who had fallen to your siege at Midsummer." Thranduil returned to his point, "But, was it worth public humiliation and being made a spectacle of before all of Rivendell?"

Haldir nodded emphatically. "Yes."

"And do you now find yourself with a taste for burying your gwib in the bottoms of those who would never have deemed you an acceptable partner before? Were you skilled enough to earn a permanent place in the beds of the High Elven Lords you fucked with such reckless abandon at Midsummer?" 

Thranduil wasn't going to tell him, but the stories had been prime fuel for the King's fantasies ever since he'd heard them told, and he still pleasured himself with the fantasy of having one or two of his most beautiful Silvan ellyn claim his ass in some remote hideaway deep in the woods where none at Court would ever know save him. And sometimes, more times than the King wanted to admit, the ellon in his woods had long silvery hair and bore Haldir's face. 

Legolas could not have known his father knew of whom he candidly spoke with such admiration, or how his words would make Thranduil's lonely body burn for a return to the days of his youth. Passion had been sweetest, then, with other ellyn, and the King had kept his female lovers few, though throngs of interested ellith plagued him with coy smiles and overt invitations.

Only two elleth had ever fully captured Thranduil's desire; the first had been his wife, Queen and the mother of Legolas. After her death passing, Thranduil never intended to walk that particular path, again. Except that he had accidentally stumbled upon it again, for a short time, in the dark months after Legolas went north... And that journey had been just as fraught with agony and guilt and grief as the first. 

The King pushed those dark thoughts aside as he didn't usually revisit the memories without much more wine and an added drop or two of poppy milk to dull his hurts back into submission before he might see his lover at the evening's gatherings, for she survived her time as Thranduil's love, in body if not in heart, and her quiet deference to her King was more painful than a fresh knife wound.

Haldir's eyes fluttered and shut as he lost the battle against sleep. 

Not surprising, really, the King thought with a small smirk. 

Thranduil used the time Haldir napped to slip from the bed and retrieve a carved box from his cupboard. From the cask, he pulled a silvery Mithril phallus carved to realistically resemble an erect penis, complete with scrotum and veins running along the length to the plump head. Coating it liberally with salve from the stone pot on the bedside table, the King proceeded to slowly open his body, preparing his passage for Haldir's return to wakefulness and the fire of need which would accompany it. 

When the Marchwarden stirred, Thranduil was ready for him, rolling onto his belly and eagerly guiding Haldir's erection to his puckered opening, well stretched and lubricated in anticipation of the pounding he craved. "Enter me, now, and show me your skills..." It was more of a command than the King intended, but the tone worked, as Haldir didn't hesitate to line the throbbing, purplish head up, panting out a relieved sigh as Thranduil's body received him, swallowing his organ tip to root in a single hot slide. 

"Oh merciful Valar," the Marchwarden groaned as he pulled out, or tried to, because Thranduil's passage was reluctant to release his gwib, even long enough for him to thrust back in. "Why can I readily believe you have not let someone use you in this manner in two hundred years, at the very least?" 

His cheek rested on the King's shoulder, and Thranduil found the casual intimacy of it much to his liking. Thranduil tugged him closer until their bodies were completely skin against skin from shoulders to ankles, patient while Haldir found a cadence and angle and the Elvenking was able to relax into the motions and allow himself to be drowned in the pleasure. 

"Two thousand would be closer to the center of the target," Thranduil confessed, before capturing Haldir's chin with a hand and taking a kiss. 

Haldir returned the kiss hungrily, opening to let Thranduil's tongue sweep over his palate before withdrawing and making Haldir's tongue give chase, his hands caressed freely over the King's bare chest and eventually lower to stroke and pull on Thranduil's swollen member in time to his thrusts. 

It was the unexpected skill of Haldir's calloused hands which coaxed forth a load of Thranduil's seed; the King roared like a startled bear when his body spent on the furs below them in a sticky flood which didn't seem to him ever want to end. 

Haldir's smirking face was beside his, smooth cheek rested against his own, as the Marchwarden filled him with his own essence, so much warm ejaculate Thranduil could feel the overflow running between his buttock and down the backs of his thighs. 

The cream cooled quickly in the chilly bedchamber, because the fire had burned down. "Stay put," he told Haldir. "I will return with a washbasin, after I put another log on the fire."

Thranduil made quick work of the fire and cleaning them up with soft cloths and warm, fragrant water from his wash stand. 

All the while, Haldir watched him with a pleased, highly amused grin tugging at his lips, and Thranduil returned from the antechamber determined to kiss the smug look off his handsome face. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"How fairs your head? Does it still pain you?" Thranduil asked of him, looking up at him groggily. 

Haldir was sitting upright, with his bare back against the intricately carved wood of the headboard on Thranduil's massive four post bed. 

His world had stopped spinning over an hour before, and his limbs were finally accepting of commands once again, thank the Valar. There was a lingered throb in his temples, but the rest of him seemed to have come back from his poisoning well enough. 

In fact, he'd been watching the King sleep and admiring the curve of his bare hip, and the dance of muscles playing along his belly, before Thranduil returned to wakefulness. He waved the concern away. "Nothing I have not endured many a time after indulging in too much fine wine at a feast."

The King nodded, "A good sign. The maca's effects, while deplorable, are not particularly long lived." The furs fell back from his torso as he sat up and Haldir eyes followed them down to the impressive erection rising from Thranduil's lap. 

"You do find me attractive."

The look Thranduil gave him was barely less than an exasperated eye roll. "I thought I made that abundantly clear over the course of the night."

Haldir thought back to all their activities and it dawned on him, "You found climax for yourself only once."

"This was not about my pleasure," Thranduil pronounced, calmly, the heat of his passion durning their activities cooling back into his usual temperament. 

Again, Haldir was given reason to pause. "You did not fuck me."

"No, of course, I did not."

"I wanted to you to," Haldir confessed, cheeks warming after the words slipped out. 

"I am certain you did." Thranduil's smirk made it's first appearance of the day at that moment. "What sort of a host would I be if I took advantage of a drugged guest? You already liken me to a monster carved of ice. Or was it a corpse?" They both knew exactly what Haldir had called the King. "Rutting in you to satisfy my urges would serve no purpose in this situation save upsetting you and your lovers, one of whom is my son, and perhaps proving your assessment was in fact correct about my deficient character... and my lack of honor."

Haldir shook his head, "Not if I asked for it." He'd done more than ask for it, Haldir vaguely remembered begging the Elvenking to fuck him. If his face had been reddened with embarrassment before, it was tenfold worse, now, as those hazy images from his memory surfaced.

"You were not in any condition to direct our activities last night. Your brain was addled."

The Marchwarden's eyes narrowed, "You promised to see to my satisfaction."

"I allowed you to fuck me, quite thoroughly," Thranduil reminded him. "And I counted four other times you found release at my hands... Or in my mouth."

"My brain is no longer addled by maca, my Lord, and I am ready for you to take me," Haldir challenged him. "Would you have me return to my lovers, one of which is your son, not having the one thing I would covet from a night in your bed."

This time Thranduil did roll his eyes. "So much for your claims of loathing for pity sex."

Haldir moved slowly toward the King, stretching and flexing in a way he knew would draw Thranduil's attention. 

If there was anything Haldir had been able to glean from the last eight hours, it was the power he, a simple archer from the Golden Woods, had over Thranduil's desire. If he hadn't wanted to bed Haldir, he would have turned the Marchwarden over to a pair of servants or personal guard and let them bring him to release. 

Instead, Thranduil had offered his lanky body and tight passage to Haldir's mindless need, not once, but twice in the course of the night. And very likely forgone his own need for releases in the process. 

"You are erect," Haldir waved a hand at the King's gwib. "It cannot be comfortable to go wanting."

"I want many things, and yet make do without them," the King assured him. "You have a veritable list of lovers whom, I am sure, are more than eager to fuck you once you put in an appearance this mid-morning." 

"Does the King have a list as well within his Halls?"

Thranduil's expression darkened, or more precisely his face grew more guarded, but he answered Haldir's impertinent query nonetheless, "I have not taken pleasure in a lover's body in decades."

This was not something Haldir expected. In fact, the very idea came near to horrifying him. 

Eldar were sensual creatures. Sex was as much a part of their existence as singing and dancing and communing with nature. To deny oneself for tens of years was... Pitiable. No wonder the King had grown cold and distant from his people. Touch was one of the main ways Elves connected to the world and each other.

"Why?"

"Sex without love quickly leaves me bored. And as my son has had the misfortune to learn, love is rife with pain."

Haldir could not disagree with the sentiment, but it still left him uncomfortable to know Thranduil was even more touch starved than Legolas had been at Midsummer this past summer. "Thank you."

"Nothing I have done requires your gratitude, Marchwarden."

"You did not have to do anything, at all," Haldir insisted. 

The King shrugged it off. "There is a warmed bathing pool through the archway on the right. Feel free to avail yourself of anything you find in there. I have had clean clothing brought from your rooms."

Haldir watched as the King slid from the bed and padded through the archway on the opposite side of the cavernous Royal bedchamber. He couldn't help but admire Thranduil's backside as he went, or the half erection he was still sporting.

With a huff, Haldir vowed he wasn't finished with the Ice King, yet. It was just proving to be more of a challenge than he anticipated. 

(I hope this was worth the month's of waiting while I tried to get it just right.)


	5. Chapter 5

"Lord Thranduil, you have graciously hosted our party within your Halls for five nights, and we are anxious to learn if you have reached a decision," Elladan queried the King at the evening's meal. "Will Legolas be joining us when we depart for Caras Galadhon?"

The Elvenking was attentive to the conversations of the younger Eldar, if not an active participant in most of the debates, and now all eyes focused on him, all conversations halted. He offered Elladan a small, pleased expression for his compliment on Thranduil's hospitality. "Legolas is not a prisoner in the Woodland Realm. My son is free to come and go, as he sees fit... as are all my people. If my blessing is required by your Lord and Lady for this adventure, I see no reason why Legolas should not visit our neighbors, if they wish him to be their guest." 

There was a pause, and to be honest, Legolas was expecting the objection to come. 

"Still..." Thranduil continued, "His presence, even for a fortnight at this busy time of year, will be missed. Legolas has an important part to play in our traditional Midwinter activities and there are his patrol and training routines with the guard to consider." 

The Prince opened his mouth to speak, to assure his father a suitable substitute would be found, but Thranduil continued, "Perhaps Haldir, faithful Marchwarden of the Golden Wood, could remain behind for the fortnight in your stead." 

Legolas was grateful his father was looking at Haldir when he made this suggestion, because he paled, still very much clinging to his gut feeling someone targeting the people who ventured into his bed. 

A glance at Haldir showed the ellon not entirely caught off guard by the Elvenking's suggestion. In fact, his handsome face, which could be completely unreadable and impassive when he wanted it to be, bore a smirk of challenge directed at Thranduil, his eyes alight. 

Legolas wasn't sure what he was witnessing, but it was clear there was an unspoken conversation going on between the two Elves. 

"If it is your will that my remaining a guest in your Halls be a condition of Legolas' own leave-taking, I will gladly I offer myself for whatever duties you would require of me for the duration of his absence."

"Haldir, I am not certain..." Legolas started, cautiously.

Thranduil stopped his words with an upraised hand. "A well trained Marchwarden should have no problem facing a few of the dangers our people encounter each and every day in this realm."

"I look forward to such a challenge of my skills with blade and bow," Haldir told the King. "Your continued hospitality is not unwelcome, as I find the Wood-elves of your Court both gracious and welcoming. Anything I can do to repay their hospitality, I will gladly do."

"You see," Thranduil turned a triumphant smile on Legolas. "He welcomes the opportunity to spend more time within my Halls."

"Haldir has never faced one of the abominations from the South," Legolas insisted. "And he cannot fathom how cold and unforgiving our lands can be to the uninitiated."

"If it will ease your mind, Legolas, I will accompany him personally should he venture beyond the Palace grounds. It has been far too long since I travelled the roads in winter and delivered the Midwinter gifts to our people in person."

Legolas was even more puzzled by their behavior than before. It was like watching a clever battle of wits and wills, or the dancing point and counter-point in a sword fight. 

Before he departed, the Prince swore he would get the full story out of Haldir or he would not be leaving him to fend for himself with a possible murderer or his arrogant, mercurially tempered sire. 

_+_+_+_+_+_

Haldir watched Legolas over the rim of his wine. There was a deliciously stubborn set to the Prince's jaw, and a tightness around his eyes that bespoke his concern for Haldir's welfare, and the depth of his caring, far more than words would convey. The sentiment warmed his heart, and he knew Legolas would go nowhere if he knew of Haldir's recent poisoning and the night he spent under Thranduil's care. And that is precisely why Haldir hadn't told him, or the twins, or any other of their party. 

"My Lord..." A new, feminine voice spoke, like sweet tinkling bells in a breeze, disrupting the flow of Haldir's thoughts. "If I may be allowed your indulgence..."

All eyes at the table turned from their sumptuous desserts to the one who spoke: a silver-blonde maiden with a large, expressive violet eyes. 

Her name was Lillien. The twins asked Legolas her name the first time they laid eyes on her, as she was remarkably lovely. Graceful and elegant as High Elven ladies tended to be, Haldir couldn't help likening her to a spectre at the edge of the glittering court, the others' oddly deferent behavior toward her, suggesting to his trained eye something wasn't quite what it seemed about her. 

It made Haldir grind his teeth in frustration when Legolas confided the reasons behind the Court's strange behavior. A pure blood Sinda, and therefore acceptable, Lillien's mother was very well respected at Court before her death, the elleth's her father was of mixed Noldor and Silvan stock, which many families here thought would pollute their pure Sindarin blood. Galadriel would hate it, when he returned to tell her.

His icy pale eyes widened slightly as the King looked to her, giving her his full attention, and seeming almost eager to hear what she had to say. "You have it, as always, Lillien."

Lillien's tongue flicked out to wet her plump lower lip and Haldir wasn't the only one whose eyes were drawn to the tiny, nervous movement; Thranduil's eyes were fixed to her lips, too. "Before they passed from this life, my parents spoke fondly of kin in the Golden Wood, though I cannot confirm statements made so very long ago. I have pondered much on this, since our guests arrived, and I humbly beg your leave to accompany Prince Legolas to Caras Galadhon for the Midwinter festivities."

If he hadn't recently spent a night in Thranduil's bed, Haldir would have missed the tiny hitch in the King's breathing at the Lady's request, the sort of sound one makes when burnt or nicked with a blade unexpectedly. 

It was far from an unreasonable request for an orphan to want to seek one's kinsman, and Thranduil opened the door himself for such a request when he stated his people were free to come and go as they chose. 

Clearly, this was not the case with this particular female, as Thranduil's gaze hardened and he opened his mouth to deny her request. 

Haldir could have kissed Elladan, then and there, because Elrond's son spoke first, "I am certain my Lord and Lady would welcome a visit from Lady Lillien with open arms, whether or not she has kin residing in the Golden Wood. If she does indeed have kinsman in Lothlórien, or farther afield in Rivendell or elsewhere, it should prove a simple matter to track them down and make introductions." He turned to her, his grey eyes regarding her kindly, "Have you been long without kinsman here, my Lady?"

Lillien nodded, pain clear in her features as she made no attempt to hide it. "My parents made the journey to Mandos fighting side by side in the last age, my Lord, and I must say I find myself envying you the companionship of your twin."

Both brothers smiled at her, identical and equally charming, and Elrohir made a slight bow of his head, "We would be honored to act as your escort, my Lady."

"Lillien, you do not know what it is you ask," the King scolded her. "Deep snows can make the roads impassible this time of year, and you have never possessed the skill to make what is sure to prove a difficult journey by horse."

Haldir found himself again studying Thranduil, attempting to puzzle out what his words did not say as much as what he said. 

The King did not want Lillien to leave, and the desire to keep her from going was so strong he'd insulted her riding skills before their guests and all the other Lords and Ladies seated at the High Table for dinner. 

The Marchwarden wasn't the only one who recognized the insult; Legolas' jaw clenched in anger. 

Lillien lowered her eyes in a heartbreaking display of submission to her King. "I had to ask, my Lord," the Lady said. "I will abide your judgement in this, of course."

Haldir discovered he might just have been mistaken when it came to Thranduil possessing a heart, for he witnessed the brief flash of remorse in the moment when the King realized his sharp, carelessly worded comments caused Lillien pain and embarrassment before her peers and their guests. 

He would wager a bottle of Dorwinion Thranduil secretly harbored feelings for her. 

The Marchwarden decided to test Thranduil's newly discovered heart, and addressed the elleth himself, "Lady Lillien, did you not read the missive I carried for you from Lady Galadriel?"

Her mouth opened and her eyes went from him to the King, and back to him like a fawn spooked by two predators, trying to decide which way to bolt. "I did read it."

"The Lady Galadriel wrote to you personally, Lillien?" Legolas asked her, surprised and awed. "What did she say?"

Her eyes fled not to Haldir or Legolas, but to the King who echoed his son, "I would be interested to know what Galadriel has to say as well, Lillien, but this is neither the time or place." He shot a hard look at Haldir, and in a softer tone for which Haldir was grateful, Thranduil added to her, "I will expect you to bring this letter to my study immediately after the conclusion of the night's entertainment." 

She paled and Haldir could see her hands tremble where they rested, folded on the table, before the plate with her untouched pastry. "Yes, my Lord."

Legolas earned himself a kiss later from Haldir, too, when he said, "Lillien, if you must make the journey to Caras Galadhon with us, you can ride before me on my mount. You need not fear the horses, for you know I am an excellent rider even in deep snow, and I will not let you fall." He smiled at her, accepting her discomfort with horses as a matter of course and not a cause for shame. 

The eyes of many of the ellith at the table, who were obviously jealous, narrowed at the Prince's offer, while Thranduil said nothing, merely regarded the Prince's kindness thoughtfully. 

Before another word could be said, a chime sounded signaling the start of the entertainment in the other room and the King led the party out of the dining Hall. 

As he passed, Haldir caught Legolas by the arm and kissed him passionately. 

"What is this for?" Legolas panted, when he was released from Haldir's kissing assault. 

"For Lillien, and... not being anything like your father."

Legolas laughed, then his expression turned somber, "Lillien is going to have to face my father sooner rather than later."

They did not enter into the Hall for the entertainment with the others, instead they slipped away to Legolas' rooms, removing boots and outer robes and settling on his bed facing each other. 

"If Thranduil does not relent, I have instructions from Galadriel to dress Lillien in the clothes and cloak of one of my guards and remove her by stealth like a thief in the night. That will not be easy to manage if she cannot ride..." Haldir sighed. 

"Why does she need to make this trip with us?" Legolas asked him, gravely.

"Because Lillien's Noldor blood is old and strong from her father's kin. My Lady can feel the elleth's struggle to suppress it, to hide the extent of her growing abilities, all the way from Caras Galadhon. A point will come where, in perhaps a decade at most, Lillien will not be able to control the power. Lady Galadriel is a kind and patient teacher. And having mixed blood in our lands is far more commonplace. Something tells me she will be happier with her kin than she is here."

Legolas sighed, his breath ghosting across Haldir's skin. "I fear there is something going on between my father and Lillien."

"Or the King wishes such were the case," Haldir agreed. 

The Prince scowled, "I have never known the King to take ladies of his Court into his bed." In this, Legolas sounded certain. "She deserves better... More."

Haldir smirked, "Lillien may not warm his bed, but it is clear even to a newcomer such as I that she has taken possession of whatever heart your King has left beating within his chest."

"I do not know whether to laugh or cry for her. There was a time father made us spend a great deal of time together, hoping to spark a love match between us. I like Lillien very much, but I never loved her as more than a friend. Now, I wonder if father knew her magic would grow to be very powerful. Her father was Ada's most trusted advisor. Long before he took the throne, they were closer than brothers."

There was nothing to be done, Haldir knew. The elleth had to show the letter to the King, and whether he wanted to or not, Thranduil would let Lillien make the journey with them to Caras Galadhon. Galadriel, he knew from personal experience, alway got what she wanted eventually, in one way or another. Thranduil knew this as well as he, and Haldir wondered if this was at least part of the reason the Woodland's King had as little to do with his Eldar neighbors as possible. 

"Why are you chuckling? Is something funny?" Legolas asked him, rolling over top of him and pinning his wrists above his head. 

Haldir groaned as their swollen erections bumped against each other. "Do the movement with your hips, again, and I might be convinced tell you."

"I have a better idea..." Legolas snaked a hand down between their bellies, taking them both in a firm grip and tugging until they were both panting, then abruptly he stopped, "Now, are you going to tell me or not?" 

"You win, I will talk. It occurred to me your King almost certainly avoids dealings with my Lord and Lady because they are even more used to getting their way than he."

Frowning, Legolas nodded, "I fear you are most likely right. Father is going to hate it, but in the end it is wiser for him to relent and let Lillien go." And his brow furrowed more as he remembered another part of the dinner conversation, "And why are you so eager to stay here, Haldir? You do not need to. I have others who can manage in my place."

Haldir grinned, "The King and I have unfinished business."

"Do I want to know?"

"Would you mind terribly, mellon, if I have a mind to tie your insufferably arrogant father in knots and make Thranduil beg for the privilege to fuck me?"

The Prince laughed, "Oh merciful Valar, Haldir, the idea..."

"The icy King wants me."

"He isn't the only one."

Haldir nodded, "You can have me. In fact, I insist you take me, right now, before I perish from needless waiting." He rolled onto his stomach, pulled his leggings off and raised his bare backside into the air. 

"As for my father," Legolas told him. "You can do as you please, so long as your efforts take his thoughts far away from Lillien. She does not deserve the heartache he would bring her. "

"I accept your challenge."


	6. Lillien's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beloved lady heryn vell  
> Beloved king aran vell  
> Do you love me? Ni melidh?  
> You have my love Sevidh i velethen  
> You are the love of my life De velethron e-guilen 

Lillien entered the King's study to find him standing before the brightly burning fire in the massive granite hearth, his back remained to her. Something about the sight of Thranduil silhouetted by the fire's glow triggered a memory, an echo of another time when she'd been alone in this room with her King. 

She shivered at the memory. 

"If you are cold, by all means, come and warm yourself by the fire." 

As he glanced over his shoulder at her, the King added, "It would be best if you close the doors behind you." The command was his way of letting her know his thoughts were also in their past, specifically the day when she'd come to him and raised her voice in uncharacteristic impertinence to protest the unfairness of her lover's banishment. 

She closed the doors as he asked and moved further into the room, but stopped short of joining him before the fire. Instinct told her it would be a mistake to put herself within reach of the King in his current mood, or ever again. It wasn't that he presented a danger to her, far from it, Lillien was confident in his control even in a rage. Thranduil preferred to correct his people with biting words or withering looks when they overstepped the bounds of his patience. Or in her case, he suited the punishment to her by kissing her into silence and eventually submission.

"I am not angry with you, Lillien. There is no need to tremble like a cornered field-mouse," Thranduil stated. 

This brought a curl to Lillien's lips, the beginnings of a bitter smile. "I have no fear of you, my Lord. You would never lift a hand to me in anger." 

"No, of course, I would not."

Lillien debated the wisdom of saying more, but she need not bring up the night they shared in this room, for the Elvenking did it for her. "I have lifted a hand to touch you in other ways, in this very room, and I suppose this could also be the cause of your trembling and reticence to be near me unchaperoned."

"Your touch has never been unwelcome," she found herself confessing. To clarify, Lillien added, "Entirely unexpected. More than a little unsettling, but always welcome." She bit into the flesh of her lower lip to stem the tide of words. 

Thranduil nodded once, as if confirming this to himself, then turned to study her with those pale, cool eyes. "You've drawn blood."

Confused, she frowned at him, "My Lord?"

He crossed the distance until he was an arm's length from her and his proximity made the elleth involuntarily retreat a step. Thranduil found this reflexive back-step unacceptable, and he captured her chin as gently as he would cradle a newborn kitten. "You bit your lip, and it is bleeding." The pad of his thumb wiped at the blood tenderly, and his expression was the opposite of cool and detached. "I should have known you would seek to flee my Halls the first time an opportunity presented itself." It wasn't a condemnation of her request at dinner, but a barb aimed inwardly at himself and his actions. Guilt. 

"If I grant you permission to take your leave, unlike my son, you will never return."

Thranduil's assessment was correct, painful but accurate. 

The opportunity to find family outside the Woodland Realm was too good to pass up and once Lillien was away from Thranduil's court she would seek a proper husband and finally have a home, a family, and the children she was aching for. Lady Galadriel promised her as much and more in the letter.

The King read her face as easily as he would a dusty parchment scroll. "Show me this letter from Galadriel you have been hiding," he rumbled. 

"I did not hide it, my Lord." Lillien bristled at the accusation, though it held no real venom and she knew that. "I have had little time to think of much beyond overseeing preparations for the solstice celebrations. You have also been busy with our guests." She slipped it from the folds of the sash gathering her dress at her middle, and noted Thranduil's eyes lingered on her breasts for a moment too long. 

The King had to let her chin go to accept the roll of parchment from her, and this the elleth was glad for. His touch burned not only in her cheeks and chin, but in her heart and between her legs. The desire tasted like ashes and regret. 

Lillien licked at her lower lip and tasted the blood. 

His focus turned to the elegant script of Galadriel's message, and Lillien used this distraction to make her escape to a chair beside the fire. 

Normally, protocol demanded one to ask permission to sit in the Elvenking's presence, but the sudden weakness in her knees presented Lillien with two immediate options in light of the impending failure of her legs, the carpeted floor before the fire or one of a pair of armchairs. 

Despite his efforts to protect her, that very same rug left abrasions on her bare shoulders and buttocks when they coupled on the floor that first time. Ever after they were more selective with their choices and his bed was her preferred location for passion. 

"Are you struggling as much as she claims?" He waved the paper. 

Lillien winced, and sighed, "Yes, my Lord." 

It was a becoming more difficult to block off the intrusive thoughts of those around her, and the dreams which plagued her sleep nearly always came to pass. The most disturbing of all was falling asleep in her rooms and waking somewhere she had been dreaming of. It was a good thing she didn't dream of Thranduil's rooms because it would be hard to explain how she got past guards and a bolted door. 

"Lately, I have begun to Travel to other places within your Halls, when I dream of them. There is no controlling it. I am fortunate I do not dream of going out into the snowstorms, or falling into the river."

She watched as Thranduil paced the floor as he tended to do when presented with a problem which needed solving. 

As with most of the warriors she knew, movement of his body helped focus her King's mind. Her eyes were drawn to his broad shoulders and powerful arms, as was the rest of her if she but allowed it, which she did not, because first and foremost Lillien was intent on protecting herself. 

Her beloved Thranduil had hurt her once, decades ago, when she was at her most vulnerable and Lillien would not permit the ellon who was her love and her Lord to ever get close enough to repeat his mistake. To do so would likely destroy her. 

His voice pulled her from her thoughts, "Do you still harbor the wish for a child?"

"More than I have ever wanted anything, my Lord," Lillien confirmed.

"You haven't tried very had to court ellyn from the noble families here." 

Lillien snorted, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Legolas is the only person in your Halls who has no knowledge of what transpired between us. There is no highborn Sinda family who would now consider me an acceptable match for one of their sons, lest they anger you. You've put me aside since Legolas' return, so many assume I proved flawed in some way."

The King gave her a strange, inscrutible look. "There is one you know all too well I deem acceptable. When you were born, your father and I spoke often of our hope to join our Houses. We left offerings to the Valar asking for a blessing... that you and Legolas would come to love each other."

Lillien sighed, "There is one problem with Legolas loving me, my Lord. I am not Tauriel."

The mention of Tauriel made the King's eyes flash with a dangerous light, much as they had when she'd come to his study to protest Tauriel's banishment after he and the remains of his army returned without her. "Am I to lie to you, my Lord? Should I tell you what you want to hear, pretending to court someone who is only a dear friend, when I know there will never be another for him? Wherever your cruelty sent Tauriel into hiding, she took your son's heart with her."

"You speak only of his heart, but what of yours?"

This very question Lillien had decades of aching loneliness to ponder. "My heart is not to be trusted."

"And why is that?" Thranduil frowned. Was it possible he didn't know?

"When given the possibility of a gentle, loving soulmate who would offer me everything I need to be truly happy, or a sarcastic, arrogant Lord who will give me nothing... my heart chooses the path of suffering." Her words hit their mark much harder than Lillien expected, and Thranduil's eyes lowered. "If I can force myself to stop loving you while I am in Caras Galadhon, I will. If I am ever have a child of my own, it is what I must do."

Thranduil looked up at her, his head tilted to one side, considering. "Lillien, you wouldn't be so desperate for a baby as to spike a visitor's wine with maca, would you?" His eyes pleaded with her to deny it even if that denial was an outright lie.

Lillien's mouth opened and closed several times as she stammered for words, "Ai! Say it is not true! Could one of our people do such a vile thing?"

The pale haired King nodded, his expression grim. "I tended Haldir myself until the madness passed."

"You know I want a child more than life, my Lord, but I would never resort to such means to beget a babe." Her tone turned sour with long held bitterness. "If I were inclined to deceit and feminine wiles, I have seen you in your cups often enough at feasts to have lain with you and stolen your seed." It was true, she'd had the thought more than once in the hours after a feast of how easy it would be to use the embers of his feelings for her to manipulate him, but Lillien had pushed those black thoughts aside, because it wasn't just his baby she wanted, but his consideration, his attentiveness and his love. 

He obviously didn't know what to make of her confession, because he quickly changed the subject, "Do you know of one who might? Are there others who are without child, but want one badly enough to poison a guest in my Halls to achieve that aim?"

It took her a few seconds to compose herself enough to do more than shake her head, "All I know who want children have already borne them, my Lord."

"Except you..." 

Lillien closed her eyes and tears still leaked out and ran down her cheeks. She stiffened at the feel of Thranduil taking her hands in his, and his gentle touch made her open them, again, to look into his eyes. He was kneeling before her, his expression mirroring her pain. He pulled her forward until he could bring her upper body against his chest, arms holding her fiercely as he whispered soothing endearments into her hair. 

"I feel so tired," Lillien told him.

Thranduil 's breath was hot against the tears on her cheeks, "When I look into your soul, Lillien, where I once saw fire, there is only cold ashes and misery... Why did you not say something instead of silently letting all hope die inside your heart? I cannot bear to see you like this, to know I am responsible for causing you so much hurt." His arms tightened around her, his hands working in circles on her back as if to warm her.

"Ni melidh?" She asked her King, not sure she could bear his answer one way or the other. 

"Sevidh i velethen," Thranduil told her.

Her head rested on his shoulder as she sobbed harder than even the day they lost their unborn child, deciding not to continue on as lovers because the King did not want to take on the responsibility for another child, one who might someday grow up to threaten Legolas' claim as his heir. 

Lillien bitterly accepted the other unspoken and deeper reason Thranduil turned his back on her, because he could not stand to put her in a situation where she might meet the same fate as his first wife and leave him alone yet, again. No babe was worth a second devastating loss to him. 

"De velethron e-guilen... aran vell." 

"I do not want you to go, Lillien," Thranduil whispered, as close to pleading as she could ever remember hearing from him. "The roads are dangerous, most are nearly impassable to horse travel this deep into winter. And, I... I loathe the way the young Noldor Lords from Imladris look at you."

This startled a huff of surprise from Lillien. "Jealousy is not an emotion our King is accustomed to." She snuggled into his arms for the first time since that horrible night when she woke in a pool of blood in his bed. "Those two would produce an army of children."

"Have a care, heryn vell. Legolas believes someone may be targeting those he is closest to. Until I know who is doing it, I am assigning a guard to you." He pushed her hair aside and stroked her cheek. "I never intended to make you suffer, Lillien. If I must let you go, I hope while you are away you will come to forgive me for the choices I made, and the consequences they have had on your life."

Lillien's fingers teased the fine silver hair at Thranduil's temples, "Some sufferings I can forgive you with but a small effort, because I know you are sincere in your regret. But others, like banishing my wild Silvan lover... that wound is still raw."

"It is the same with Legolas," Thranduil sighed. 

"Tauriel was mine before she loved the Prince," Lillien stated. "Though, it was a playful love and I never felt I needed to capture her heart." 

Thranduil held her gaze, then pressed a light kiss to her lips. "You miss her."

"I do."

He put her head back on his shoulder and admitted, sadly, "I miss our wild, reckless Tauriel, too."

Thranduil scooped Lillien up and sat in the chair with her curled up in his lap. 

Eventually, he relaxed and dozed against her shoulder while she watched the fire, content to be held if even for a single night. When Lillien woke later and tried to disentangle herself from him, his arms tightened around her, making her scowl at him in exasperation, "I must go."

"Spend the rest of the night with me," Thranduil suggested, his voice low, his manner languid and relaxed from sleep. 

She winced and shook her head vehemently. "No, Thranduil. I will not." The steel in her tone surprised them both.

The King relented, his hold on her loosening and Lillien scrambled away, not daring to look back.

 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

When the door to her sitting room opened, Lillien didn't bother to look up, she merely waved her hand at the pile of clothing and other going away gifts overwhelming the small side table and continued scribbling her notes, "You can leave the dresses with the others, but really I have no need of more clothing. I have enough to wear a new one each day until summer as it is."

"I suppose it is a good thing dresses are not what I bear," Thranduil assured her. 

Lillien head shot up in surprise, and she scrambled to stand in the presence of the King. "My Lord! Forgive me. I have had an endless stream of visitors this morning and I fear my patience has worn thin. I appreciate their generosity, truly, but I feel as though every Lady at Court is giving up her best new winter dress to me. Those I have long envied are now envious themselves, if only of my part such a grand, mysterious adventure." 

At his nod, she continued to explain, "I cannot possibly take all of them, nor would I want to. Midwinter festivities are observed here, as well, of course. I will be hard pressed enough to finish drawing up the final directives before it is time to depart." She gestured to the pile of parchment on her desk, "The meals are planned, the decor and music are well in hand, and I have been assured all the Courts' gifts will be ready on the appointed day, but you will need to select someone to handle the last minute details in my stead. Small substitutions or adjustments to the menu are normal. I could suggest someone..."

Thranduil approached the table and placed his burden, a small wooden chest with intricate leaves carved into the top, before her. He opened the cask to reveal a small mountain of golden coins and gemstones. "This I owed to your father. They are yours to take with you. If you decide to remain in Lothlórien, have Galadriel send word and I will have his armor and other belongings delivered to you in Caras Galadhon, as well." The King picked up one of the papers she was writing and scanned it. "You are charged with planning the Midwinter feast?" 

He seemed genuinely shocked this task came to be hers, and Lillien felt herself smirking, "I have helped plan the Midwinter festivities in your Halls for decades, my King, but the planning has been mine alone for the last nineteen years."

Thranduil's brows drew together in consternation. "Did I neglect to appoint one of my stewards to deal with this?" Without a Queen in the Woodland Realm, the planning of the various festivals and feast days had been delegated by the King. 

"You appointed a person, my Lord. Unfortunately, they refused to continue in the position after you went into a tirade about the quality of the venison and a short supply of your favorite mushroom pies. A replacement was not to be easily found after that, because no one wished to be a willing target for your wrath and risk suffering public humiliation."

The King's eyes held hers. "And how did you come to be placed in the position, Lady Lillien?"

"I volunteered, my Lord," she confessed to him with a shrug. "I am well aware of your temper, as well as your expectations for the quality of parties and feasts in your Halls." Since she would soon be leaving, possibly for good, Lillien was honest with the King and held little back. "A part of me considered it an excellent source of education for when you would eventually decree it time I marry Legolas and assume those sorts of duties as his wife and future Queen."

Thranduil paled, but it was hard to tell which part of her statement caused the reaction: was it her marrying Legolas, or the part where she assumed he would be gone and she would one day be Queen... "I would never decree you must marry someone you do not love."

"Forgive me, if I find it hard to accept your sincerity, when you have made other unilateral decisions regarding my happiness and personal circumstances in the past," Lillien countered, bitterly. 

It was Thranduil who decided they would not have a child together, and ultimately called an end to their intimate relationship entirely while she was still recovering from her illness and miscarriage. How had it been so easy for him to crush her so completely and just walk away?

"Lillien..."

The Lady was tired and flustered and she didn't need Thranduil in her personal rooms rehashing the pain of the past while she was trying to finish her work. "With all due respect, my Lord, I have many tasks I need to accomplish yet this day, and precious few hours left to see them done. Suffice to say, I was the only one willing to accept the role of scapegoat and focus of your wrath should one of the social events in the Elvenking's Halls devolve into an unmitigated disaster. It is pure luck alone none did so in the last two decades."

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, momentarily taken aback by the censure in her tone. "Why have I not known of this before now?" Was that all he could manage to say?

"I asked that you not be told."

"Why?"

Lillien shrugged, "I needed the work. To keep busy. To make a place for myself where I felt... Useful, if not happy. I cannot abide being idle, as it gives me too much time to dwell on things which I cannot change; better to focus on things I can control. It is a pity I never developed your taste for drowning my feelings in Dorwinion when they surfaced at an inconvenient time." This was a cutting jab aimed at Thranduil's own method of numbing his pain, and they both knew it was a particularly cruel blow. 

The King's shoulders stiffened at the insult. "I will leave you to your preparations then, Lady." His tone was laced with hurt, and he refused to meet her eyes as he turned to leave her to finish her work.

Lillien regretted those words spoken in anger, and she hastily said, "Thranduil... I'm sorry. I should not have said that. I have no right to judge."

The King looked over his shoulder at her, "You have more right than anyone to judge me, Lillien."

"I still love you," Lillien told him. "After everything."

He nodded, "And I you."

"Please, my Lord, this is my last night in your Halls. I would not leave with my cruel words hanging in the air between us."

The King paused, after a brief hesitation, he turned back to her. "What would you have of me?"

Lillien's shoulders slumped in defeat. What did she want? Did he even need to ask? It was simply the only thing she ever asked of him; for him to lower his defenses and allow her to know his love for her still burned somewhere inside him. "I only ever wanted you, Melda Tar. Whatever parts you are able to give me."

"I never imagined you would leave me," Thranduil whispered, more to himself than to her. "Why did I not even consider such a possibility? I only ever worried I would lose you if I attempted once more to give you a child, and I certainly will lose you, now, if I do not." He pondered this for a moment, before adding, "When I ended our time as lovers, I thought it would be enough for you to live within my Halls, but it has never been so, has it? Not for either of us. Holding you, Lillien, I slept more soundly than I have managed in ages. I was given a second chance to know happiness with you, and like a blind fool, I squandered it. I fear it is too late, now, to persuade you to return and give me yet another chance when your studies are complete."

Lillien could see her beautiful, broken King was sincere in his desire to make it up to her; to change both their fates, but could it be enough? She went to him, placed a hand on the rich brocade of his robes over his heart, and stared up into those captivating eyes. Their pull was undeniable, as was the warmth of his body under her palm. "I do not want to believe I will never see you, again," Lillien confessed, the fire of her emotions burning her eyes. "Such thoughts are too much agony to contemplate. If you have something more than words to offer me as proof of your changed heart, I beg you to show me, Thranduil, before it really is too late." 

It was a challenge.

In unspoken answer, Thranduil gathered her up in his arms and carried Lillien to the bed in the next room, gingerly placing her upon the silken coverlet, and joyous relief overcame caution and reason. She would know his love one last time, after all. 

Between kisses, Thranduil begged her forgiveness over and over, until it became a mantra of sorts. "Forgive me... I never meant to hurt you... I made a mistake pushing you away. " 

It wasn't until he was inside her that the tears came forth from both of them. They wept freely as they made love, bodies rocking together slowly. Thranduil moved within her as gently as possible, and Lillien found herself desperate to get him to quicken the pace, thrust harder, move deeper. 

When the moment of release came, Thranduil did not withhold his seed from her. 

He slept for a time, then resumed holding her close. His cheek rested on her breast, he looked so heartbreakingly young and unencumbered by past losses and the burden Thranduil bore trying to be a good and just King to their people. Lillien couldn't bear to leave the bed to finish her tasks when the alternative was to lay in the protective circle of his arms, cherished and whole and loved. 

She was awakened before dawn by fervent, frantic kisses. Their second lovemaking was more to her preference, Thranduil holding nothing back until he left her limp and breathless, aching in intimate places and sporting a bruise on her neck from lips and teeth. Only then, could she let him go, because she had the tiniest sliver of hope a future remained for them if she returned.


	7. The Road to Caras Galadhon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ósanwë - telepathic communication  
> Vanesse - beauty

Legolas watched his father with an odd sort of fascination. It was as if a complete stranger were walking around in his father's body this morning; that was how differently Thranduil looked and acted. 

Standing off to the side of the gathering, the King spoke in hushed tones with Lillien. Gone was his usual bored, impassive mask replaced with a look of such intensity and raw emotion it was as if at any moment his father would shatter into sharp glittering fragments like a broken looking glass. 

Lillien's back was to him, so Legolas could not see if she bore a similar expression, but he imagined she did. How could she not? 

The King's hands rested lightly on her shoulders as he spoke. After a moment, their foreheads came together and carefully those long, ring adorned fingers moved up her neck to cradle her face, and Legolas thought his father might just kiss the flaxen haired elleth there and then. 

He waited for it, breath held in anticipation, but another moment passed and they seemed to remember the others around them and stepped back, the spell broken. 

As he continued to watch, Thranduil pulled a leather parcel from a pocket in his robe and withdrew from it a thin silvery chain, sparkling in the early morning sunlight. His father removed a jeweled ring from his finger, one Legolas knew never left his hand save for when he was training or in battle, and threaded the chain through it. 

After some sort of a discussion, the King moved the hair off her shoulders and fastened the chain around Lillien's neck with careful fingers. 

Legolas notice something on the pale skin of the Lady's shoulder, a red-purple mark. His father noticed it, too, tracing the abrasion as he smirked at Lillien in darkly male amusement, his smug expression revealed to Legolas far more than he could have suspected about the intimate nature of their relationship. 

The King finished adorning the Lady with his gift by pressing his lips tenderly to the top of her head. It was then that he finally glanced up and caught Legolas watching him. 

If he didn't know better, Legolas would have said his father looked remorseful, perhaps even a tad guilty, but for what Legolas couldn't say. 

The shared moment passed, Thranduil and his secret lover stepped further apart and Lillien turned toward him, now, confirming his fear she did indeed return feelings for his father. 

"Are you ready, Lillien?" Legolas asked her, gently. "It is time we departed. The ride is long and we need to make best advantage of the clear skies while they last."

Lillien smiled at him, her forced cheer belaying the tear streaks drying on her cheeks. "I am ready, my Lord." She said the words, but the look she sent over her shoulder to their King said she was expecting him to have something to say. 

Thranduil looked at the sky, and then at his son. "The weather could not be more perfect. Set a brisk pace and keep to it for as long as possible. Make your stops to rest the horses brief ones."

"We will," Legolas assured him. 

They bowed to each other, more formally than one would expect from father and son, and Legolas mounted his horse with smooth, graceful movement. When he offered a hand to Lillien, Thranduil placed his hands on her slender hips and lifted her to sit before Legolas in the saddle. 

The new travel clothing she donned for the trip included soft leather trousers and split skirts made for ease of riding and a heavy, rabbit fur lined cloak to combat the winter chill.

If Lillien feared horses, she didn't show signs of it that Legolas could detect. They rode in silence for hours and she dozed once or twice in his arms with her cheek falling on his upper arm. 

"The Lady will get a pain in her neck if she stays that way too long," Elladan whispered, inclining his head to Lillien. "When we stop to rest the horses, have her turn and face you. She can rest her head on your shoulder and you can share your cloaks."

Elrohir rode up beside his brother and nodded, "Can you smell the impending snow on the air now that we are out of the shelter of the valley and into the mountains?"

Lillien lifted her head and blinked at them owlishly, and Legolas thought she looked adorable. 

"Welcome back, my Lady. You've slept nearly half the journey so far, and I am afraid you missed my lecture on edible forest mushrooms," he teased her. 

"The fresh love bite on your neck goes far toward explaining the weariness," Elrohir commented, dryly teasing. "As does the King's ring."

Lillien frowned at them, "I can deny neither, nor would I want to, but the story is longer and far more complicated than you can possibly know." 

"I, for one, love a good romantic tale," Elladan told her.

She winced, "It is as much tragedy as romance, my Lords." Lillien eyes met Legolas'. "The King did not wish me to leave."

Legolas nodded, "I can scarce remember a time I have ever seen my father appear afraid, and yet he was today. What is it he fears?"

"I cannot speak for the King. As for myself, I must accept it would be far better if I did not return to the Woodland realm when Lady Galadriel is finished instructing me." 

Legolas tugged the reins and brought his horse to a stop. "Why would you say this, Lillien, when it is obvious to anyone who was in the forest clearing at dawn something real has grown between you and my father?"

"We can rest the horses here," Elladan told them and Legolas nodded his agreement absently, not willing to let his point go. He slid from the saddle and helped Lillien to the ground, keeping a hand on her arm to steady her, as he knew her legs would need time to recover from the hours of riding. 

They stretched their legs, within sight of the others, but out of hearing range, sharing dried fruit and water from a full water-skin. When their impromptu meal was finished, his companion gave a contented sigh, brushed a gloved hand over the side of a fallen log to clear a place to sit in the snow and proceeded to tell him of her angry encounter with King Thranduil in his study decades ago. 

"You yelled? At my father? Are you mad?" The Prince asked, incredulously. 

Lillien nodded emphatically, "I was enraged far beyond all reason and caution. Tauriel had been my lover for almost two hundred years. The King banished her. It was far from fair."

"I have come to believe things in life are rarely fair. What did my father do to you, Lillien? Throw you in the dungeons?"

The Lady laughed, "Oh, no. He did something far worse. Our cold, distant King... kissed me."

Legolas blinked and raised an eyebrow in utter disbelief. "Kissed you?"

"Much more than just a kiss happened in his study that night, Legolas, and it was but the beginning." She took another sip of water. "You were gone and missed the whole of the scandalous affair. We maintained secrecy for a time, but then..."

There was something alive in her eyes and he thought it pain mostly. "What happened, Lilli?"

Lillien smiled at the nickname from their childhood. "I became pregnant, Legolas. Not by design, of course. It just... Happened."

His eyebrows shot up. This was not what he ever expected her to say. "Pregnant? But you have no child..."

"I lost the baby not long after I learned I was carrying Thranduil's child. The pregnancy was not meant to be... I suppose it was not blessed by the Valar." The grief she still carried over the loss was plainly on her face for him to see.

Legolas took her hand and kissed it. "I have heard of such things, but in most cases the ellith can bear other children. Why didn't you and my father try again?"

Lillien bit her lower lip. "The King has you, Legolas, and Thranduil held no desire in his heart for another child. I think he mourned the loss, in his way, but once he knew I was going to recover, your father came to me in my rooms and told me he did not think it advisable to have another child. He has his heir in you, and I believe he felt you would return home and see our baby as an attempt on his part to replace you. King Thranduil loves you and he spoke of you often while you were gone, always with such regret and the burning desire to make things right between you. He missed you, his guilt at driving you away ate at his soul and he would do nothing which might have further alienated you."

Legolas didn't know what to say. It was so hard to read his father at the best of times. The King rarely showed emotion, even to his child, and Legolas knew this was because of the death of Legolas' mother and his own father. "My father is wrong. I would have welcomed your child with open arms, Lillien. I envy those with siblings, and if a child of my father wanted his crown enough to challenge me for the right, I would cheerfully and gratefully give up my claim as his heir. I have never had a thirst for power or titles."

Lillien nodded, and continued on with her tale, "Thranduil told one of the healers the child was his, because he wanted to be the one to perform the burial rights himself. Soon after, the entire court was whispering and pointing and offering me pitying looks. They were almost as unbearable as the loss of the baby I wanted so much. I was angry at the King, hurt by his disregard for my feelings and dismissive attitude toward my desire to be a mother. I spent a long time in mourning, too long, I suppose, and we just let our love for each other... fade." She sighed. "I tried to go on, but I found it difficult. Tauriel had always been my secret-keeper, the one I trusted, and now I had no one to lean on. Bitterness ate at my soul, and it took lonely years for me to reach the decision to find a husband for myself."

Legolas winced. "Did the King react badly?"

"I have never made my intentions verbal, or presented Thranduil with the chance to feel jealous, until your visitors came to the Elvenking's Halls to fetch you. No ellyn of Thranduil's Court dared to show an interest in me, because everyone is well aware of what the King can be like when he is angry." She smiled that bitter smile, again. "I still love our stubborn, arrogant King and he loves me, but I will look for a husband, someone who wants children as much as I, while I am away from Thranduil. I have to. The King has left me with no choice, if I want to know motherhood."

"Did you try to make a baby with him last night?" Legolas asked, slyly.

Lillien looked surprised, "No. Last night was not about begetting a child... It was a farewell, an acknowledgment of the embers of our feelings for each other which were stirred to life for a final farewell."

"You could have begotten a child."

"I do not believe one act is all that is required. When it comes to begetting a child. We were lovers for months before I became pregnant."

Legolas smirked, "It would serve my father right if you did give birth to his child in Lothlórien."

"The time which has passed, and your return from the North, do not change the fact of Thranduil not needing, or wanting, more children. And I simply could not bear it if he rejected a baby we created together."

Something she said moments before came back to him, "Tauriel's banishment gutted you as much as it did me." It was a statement of acknowledgement rather than a question.

"I miss Tauriel, Legolas. Lover, sister, best friend, though she was younger, her kinship was important to me. Her courage gave me courage, too. I hope wherever she is, Tauriel has found happiness." Lillien leaned in closer, lowering her voice, "Had I known where she was going, I promise you I would not have been at Court when you returned."

Again, Lillien surprised him. "You would have gone after her. On your own?"

"Yes. Even if it required learning to stay on the back of a beast with a will of its own and the strength to toss me on my head."

This was a side of the Lady Legolas had perhaps never seen before, her sudden fierceness more like Tauriel than herself. 

"Tauriel was a bad influence on you," Legolas scolded her, with a small amused smile. "Running off after a lover... Father would have you brought back and tossed in the dungeon for certain."

The Lady gave him an innocent look, wide eyed, but completely mischievous, "My King said I am free to come and go as I see fit. As are all our people."

Legolas laughed. "Our King already rues making such a statement."

"Oh, Thranduil absolutely does, I agree." Lillien put a hand on his arm, "I need you to know, Legolas, as much as I want a child... I would never put maca in the wine of anyone, least of all a guest of the King and a lover of yours, no matter how attractive."

Legolas had no idea what she was speaking of. "Who was given wine laced with maca?"

Lillien paled, violet eyes widening with surprise. "You do not know?"

"No. I heard nothing of it, obviously. You must tell me," the Prince insisted.

"It was the Marchwarden, Haldir. The King asked me if it was my doing, and I was as horrified by the suggestion as you are right now. A child should not ever be begotten by herbal coercion."

Legolas scrambled up from the log and went to speak to the others. He returned a few minutes later. "Haldir told no one he drank such a brew, but he did appear anxious and flushed a few night's past. He told me he was intoxicated."

"Maybe Haldir thought he was simply intoxicated," Lillien offered.

"Maca is potent." He scowled and paced the clearing, much like his father. "My father knew, you say?"

She nodded, "Yes. King Thranduil said he sat with Haldir all night."

Legolas snorted. 

Sitting with an ellon drugged with maca was useless, unless you were watching him participate in an orgy. Sex was the only way to purge maca out of one's system, Legolas had very personal experience in the matter. 

For Haldir to have been as well as he was at the noon meal, with only a mild headache, his father had to have taken care of the effects of the vile root himself. 

An image formed in his mind of his father and the pale haired Marchwarden, making him wince, "That would explain why Haldir wished to remain behind, and why the King was so quick to allow it." He pondered the implications, "They have to be setting a trap of some sort."

"I hope they find the one who did it and think of a suitably terrible punishment."

Legolas smirked, "I hope Haldir drives my father mad. They are both stubborn, arrogant and have insufferably high opinions of themselves."

 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

To say Thranduil held a grudge was an understatement. Even the Valar were not immune to his derision and foul temper from time to time. 

This was not one of those times. 

Standing at the highest precipice in his Halls, the King lit a candle in reverent supplication to any Vala who would hear his plea and might consider rendering aid. 

His words were less than a whisper, "Bring them safely back to me. I beg you."

It had been a long time since Thranduil asked anything of the Valar, and the last time he was very much as he was now, distraught and desperate. Lillien had come within a hair's breadth of dying on that bleak day. The tiny life their love sparked within her womb had not been so fortunate as to survive the mysterious illness which had taken her suddenly and brutally. 

"I can't..." He choked on the admission of just how much Lillien, the one elleth whom he felt was worthy to act as keeper of his only son's heart, had come to mean to him, instead. 

The irony of their unexpected love affair was not lost on him. 

Legolas deserved the best wife and finest future Queen his father could find. Lillien's serene grace, and the molten steel which lay beneath her placid demeanor, were exactly what made Thranduil fall in love with her himself. 

He'd had his chance at love and watched his wife die on a battlefield far from their home and young son. What right did he have to ever expect be happy again in the face of his hubris and unforgivable recklessness with his Queen's life? 

It served him right when Legolas gave his heart to a stubborn, impulsive Silvan elleth who would be seen as a wholly unsuitable Queen of the Woodland Realm by many of those at court rather than the High-born Lillien his father spent so much time and effort grooming to be their next Queen. The fact that Thranduil loved Tauriel like a daughter only made the situation more miserable for him and Legolas. 

A part of Thranduil wanted to step off the edge of the rocky promontory and let Legolas sort out the mess. 

"Step back from the edge, young buck, and put aside your self-pity," A voice he remembered well told Thranduil, sternly.

"Legolas will be a better King than I."

Melian's eyes were bright as she told him, "Perhaps, in time, but the young Prince has his own destiny to fulfill first and much yet to learn from his sire."

"I have made too many errors in judgement. When a King makes mistakes... The cost is paid in lives, in blood spilled needlessly."

The Maia's smile was sad, and when she took his hand in hers, the touch was electric and raised the hair on Thranduil's arms and nape. "You've learned the lesson of the great Kings of the Eldar far sooner than Thingol, young buck."

"I am far from young..."

"Time is relative, and tends to circle back on us when we least expect it."

Thranduil lowered his head to kissed the back of her hand, reverently. 

"I lost my Queen," he told her.

"Yes, Thranduil, I know. Your Queen was everything to you, and you and Legolas everything to her. You've done an admirable job honoring your promises to your wife, even when it meant dragging yourself on and on through darkness and despair when even the most valiant of Elda would have succumbed to grief and faded away. Your suffering has never gone unnoticed, nor has your age of loneliness. If you can but lower the defenses you've built around your damaged heart, and one last time seek the courage to hope, you may yet know peace and contentment and joy again." 

Her face lit with amusement at his expression. "Legolas is everything to you, now, and you've found a Lady who seems to feel that it is you, Thranduil, who are everything." 

The Elvenking tossed his head, making his silvery hair fly around his shoulders. "I am far from it."

Slender, elegant fingers cupped his jaw and forced him to meet the pale blue of her eyes. "You are worthy of being loved, young buck, or Lillien could not possibly have fallen in love with you."

"Lillien was supposed to fall in love with my son..."

Melian sighed, nodding her head in understanding, "If children only fell for those their parents deemed appropriate for them to love... I know not what would become of our world then." 

All Elda knew the tales of Luthien and Beren, and Thranduil found himself grateful it had not been his son who fell in love with a doomed Dwarf prince, or a Man. Tauriel wasn't such a terrible choice of wife when measured against the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield. 

"Lillien does not want Legolas, she never has. Her eyes have always been drawn to your light."

"I turned my back on her when she needed me most, I do not deserve her love or her forgiveness."

Melian pursed her lips, and waited for him to finish castigating himself before she said, "Lillien knows why you pushed her away, and she understood why you would not want to try for another child."

"I am a coward."

Again, she gave the almost smile. "Who would willingly gamble with his lover's life knowing once already the pain of losing a wife? And a child?"

"We are not meant to be. I have cursed myself to this solitude I dwell in, by my action... And by my inaction."

This made Melian frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I refused to help those foolish, greedy Dwarves when they brought the Dragon down upon themselves and nothing has been right since." He paced back and forth at the cliff's edge. "Their return to Erebor cost my Kingdom beyond measure."

Melian moved to block his path, "You marched on Erebor for the wrong reasons, perhaps, but if you had not been at the foot of the Lonely Mountain when the forces of darkness came forth, you have no idea how much worse off Middle Earth would be today."

"I have succumbed to the same folly as my father, and I feel myself hardly fit to be called their King. Legolas has little respect left for me, and the Valar have turned their back on us. On me."

"No, Thranduil, they have not."

His eyes were glassy, "Why else would they take the babe from us? Unless it is because I am not worthy of the honor of such a precious gift and responsibility."

"Thranduil, you break my heart." The once Queen pulled Thranduil into an embrace, holding tight to him even when he resisted. 

When she let him go, she confessed, "Hear me, noble King, and listen. If the Valar were judging you, Manwë himself would not have sent me here to stop you from making a terrible mistake while mired in your grief and doubt."

"Aulë and Mandos..." 

Melian clucked her tongue, "Mandos has no wish for you to join the legions residing in his Halls. As for Aulë, he sees the demise of the line of Durin, the slaughter of Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews at Ravenhill as his own failure, not yours. He holds you blameless in the events which transpired at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Our Smith would never begrudge your desire to save the lives of your people from the menace of Dragonfire."

"Why then, Melian? A child, not yet grown enough to draw breath..."

"True Evil dwells outside the Sanctuary you have fought so hard to maintain for your Wood-elves. It has found a chink through which to slip inside your the gates, as well, blackening the hearts of liars and cowards."

Thranduil's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, "Are you saying Legolas is correct and a Kinslayer has been residing within my Halls? Possibly leading my warriors to their doom?"

"I do not have to say it, for you will have your proof of it soon enough."

The low growl of an angry predator issued from deep within Thranduil's chest.

"Leave this place and your self-condemnation, my young buck, and set to right this terrible wrong."

The King nodded, "I will see this murderer stopped."

"You will, and as for Lillien... Never forget Galadriel was my most apt pupil when it came to manipulating the people and events around her. Her letter's promises to Lillien may have been an arrow aimed at you." The black, near murderous expression on his face made the Maia chuckle. "Do you truly believe Lillien could find another as magnificent as her King in Caras Galadhon?"

"Lillien deserves a shining palace carved of marble and gilt with gold and mithril, but instead she has pledged her heart to a crumbling ruin."

"That is the thing about ruins, they can be rebuilt with hard labor and care and patience."

Thranduil winced, "I fear it is too late for me."

"That is not for you to decide, young buck. Lillien made her choice long ago."

"I love her more than I ever thought I could bring myself to love, again."

"Yes, of course, you do. And that love is what will save you." Melian's smile was kind as she added, "In your heart, you know you long for another child, Thranduil. Admit it first to yourself, and then you must tell Lillien. If she conceives this day or the next, so far from home, she is bound to think the worst of you, and be afraid, when nothing could be further from the truth."

Understanding dawned in his eyes, "Lillien might believe I will reject a child." His voice was hoarse with emotion, "Melian, do I have cause to hope?"

"There is always room for hope. It is my hope as well that you will have another child, young buck, now or at some time in the future, but the timing is for the Creator of all to decide."

 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"I require your assistance, Marchwarden," the King stated as he strode into the library where Haldir was looking at maps and exchanging tales with some of the scribes.

Haldir had been left to his own devices since the party from Lothlórien departed without him that morning. If he had been Thranduil, Haldir would have been deep in his cups by now, and yet the Elvenking was clearly stone cold sober and there was an aura of intensity around him. A smile formed on Haldir's lips, "Of course, my Lord. I am at your service."

Thranduil rolled his eyes, "Not that. Walk with me. There is a matter I wish to discuss, and I would prefer not to be overheard."


	8. Chapter 8

"Do not fear, Tauriel, my glamour will hold," Lady Galadriel assured her. "The concealment will last for as long as you feel it is... Necessary."

Tauriel nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you, my Lady." 

Lady Galadriel nodded, and even that tiny movement of her head was to Tauriel's mind the epitome of graceful and regal, so unlike Tauriel herself.

"I find myself growing impatient to meet this son of Thranduil," Galadriel confessed, in a lowered tone which implied a confidence. "Celeborn returned from Imladris deeply enamored with the young Woodland Prince."

This made Tauriel bite her lower lip to keep from grinning. She schooled her features to blankness, and looked down at her hands. Unfortunately, those remained her own, scarred and calloused from centuries of handling her bow and knives; the Lady's glamour would only change the appearance of her facial features and the color of her eyes. Her long red hair, Tauriel took it upon herself to temporarily dye as black as pitch when she'd first heard Haldir and Elladan mention the possibility of going to the Elvenking's Halls to fetch Legolas for the Midwinter celebrations. 

Her story was known to the good people of Lothlórien who had come to respect and cherish her for exactly the same passion and desire to serve others which earned her banishment from the isolationist King Thranduil. Even the sons of Lord Elrond, who fellowshipped with Tauriel and the other archers from time to time during their visits, knew enough of her past to pull Tauriel aside and assure her they would speak no word of her while they were guests in her former home, out of respect for her desire to put the past, and the sting of her banishment from the Woodland Realm, firmly behind her. 

Legolas coming here, even for a few weeks, rocked the very foundations of the new, independent life Tauriel constructed for herself in the Golden Woods. Her hands shook and butterflies of nervousness waged war in her belly. 

Gentle fingers lifted her chin, so she had to meet Galadriel's infinite, knowing eyes. "Would a reunion with Legolas be such a terrible thing, young one?"

No...

Yes! At times, she wanted him to come to her so badly he plagued her dreams like a beautiful, smiling phantasm and she awoke calling his name and feeling the weight of sadness was nearly enough to crush her spirit.

And on went the pitched battle waging in Tauriel's heart between the ache of missing Legolas, her mentor and cherished friend, and the echoing words of Thranduil which murdered her hope for even a few stolen moments of happiness with Legolas as surely as if the King had used a blade instead of a few words of Westron language. "'Do not give him hope where there is none.' My King told me of Prince Legolas. What point is there in a reunion when the feelings I held for him died that day, my Lady?"

"Love has a way of surviving even when we think it must be long gone. Much as spring's tender shoots push their way up through snow or the most impossibly small crevices between stones each year after the snows give way to sunlight and rebirth."

"I'm sure Legolas has given his heart many times over since my departure." It had been a long time, after all. "The stories..."

Galadriel arched a delicate brow at her, "And you have not known the pleasure of lovers in the time you have been here with us, Tauriel?"

The Lady knew she had taken a fancy recently to Rumil, brother of Haldir, and that made her point quite effectively. Tauriel's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I have, my Lady, though I would like to think I do not let passions rule me."

This made Galadriel lips twitch, "A pity. Perhaps you will find someone this year to lay siege to your reserve and free the desires you do not wish to face." 

Her tone brought a flush to Tauriel's cheekbones, and Tauriel was quick with a deflection. "I am only a Silvan elf, my Lady. We are not known for grace or great beauty."

A frown small creased Galadriel's forehead, and her eyes narrowed slightly, at Tauriel's critical self-appraisal. "Do you truly not think yourself beautiful, Tauriel? When you gaze upon your reflection, is it only the imperfections and shortcomings to which you take heed?" She tsked in disappointment when Tauriel did not answer. "Grace and beauty do not come from traveling to the Undying Lands, child. Those things are borne in the Eldar, all Eldar, since the time of our creation. That you never looked upon the light of the Two Trees, or walked in the footsteps of the Valar, makes you different. Your people embrace your wild nature and strive to live in harmoniously with the plants and animals in your woods, you are not in any way inferior. If Thranduil has made your people feel as such, your King should be ashamed of himself. To exalt himself above those who put the crown upon his head, it is the absolute pinnacle of pride and arrogance."

"The King is as he always has been. He is the least changeable of all the Eldar I have even known."

Galadriel pondered that for a few moments, lost in her private thoughts, absently combing her fingers through Tauriel's long, ebony tresses. When her eyes again focused on Tauriel's face, she gave a small smile. "If you find it is too difficult to remain in Caras Galadhon during the Prince's stay, we will not force you to remain. Any of the guard posts would welcome you and your bow for the few weeks time."

Tauriel knew this. It was a kind offer, but it tasted bitterly of cowardice. "I will not let myself be driven from my home at Midwinter."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The arrival of the Prince of the Woodland Realm in Caras Galadhon was the cause for much excitement.

"Look at him, brother. Our handsome Wood-elf mellon is decidedly nervous," Elrohir teased in a lowered voice which Legolas had no trouble hearing perfectly well as they approached the platform which served as the main audience chamber for Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.

Legolas felt like a leaf caught in a strong current and swept along in the tide of Eldar moving up a glittering staircase which wrapped around the trunk of the biggest tree he could ever remember seeing. It wasn't all nervousness about meeting the Lady Galadriel the twins were detecting in his manner, Legolas very much wanted to stop, to look out and down, but his curiosity was as yet unsatisfied. 

Elladan looked Legolas over from head to toe, smiling. "Is it nerves or eagerness to see the Lord of Lothlórien, again, I wonder."

"Must we be brought before the Lord and Lady with the dust of the road still thick on our faces and hands?" Legolas grumbled. 

"It figures the son of King Thranduil wishes to bathe and pretty himself before he meets the Lady and Lord," Elladan stated, with more of the easy, teasing spirit.

Legolas turned his head to glare at him. "Perhaps, mellon, you should be a little concerned to face your Lord and explain how it is we managed to return from the halls of my father without a certain infuriatingly smug Marchwarden." He faced forward once more just it time to see Elrohir in front of him wince and hunch his shoulders. "If I am nervous to stand before Lady Galadriel, it is because I do not look forward to explaining to her or Lord Celeborn how one of my people slipped something vile into Haldir's drink and caused him to suffer a night of agonizing arousal simply because he proved a favorite of mine."

"The King took it upon himself to escort Haldir to his chambers and see to his 'suffering' personally," Elladan reminded him, with a waggle of his dark eyebrows. "My Lord and Lady will understand you are not to blame, nor is Thranduil."

They arrived at the top of staircase and the landing opened onto a large, flat talain which served as the main audience chamber for the Lord and Lady. They were to wait here for introductions to be made, and Legolas resisted the urge to wipe his damp palms on the sides of his filthy tunic. He debated lowering his hood, and as he did so he glanced up and saw Celeborn descending yet another stair hand in hand with a tall, regal woman in a long flowing gown... 

The Prince tried to find a word to describe Galadriel, but failed miserably as his brain seized up and refused to process anything beyond how stunning a beauty she was. The way her golden hair curled down to her hips reminded him of his mother's, but this was where the similarities began and ended. The Lady before him bore no expression, and he couldn't read any emotion at all behind her eyes.

"Long have I wondered what a son of King Thranduil would look like," A melodious voice whispered in his ear. Or maybe it was inside his head, because none of the others reacted to the Lady's words. "You do not disappoint, Legolas Thranduillion."

To the gathered company, it appeared they stood face to face silently taking each other's measure. His brows drew together, and she gave a huff of a laugh in his head, "Thranduil never cared for ósanwë."

Finding his voice, Legolas spoke slowly and deliberately, "Long have I heard tales of the power and cunning of the Lady of Lothlórien from our King, but maybe my father is simply jealous your vanesse is greater than his own."

Galadriel's eyes widened at his impertinent compliment on her beauty, and then the corners of her mouth twitched and she gave in and offered him a small smile. Aloud, she said, "Thranduil does not like being second best at anything, and in this, we have always been of the same mind." 

"Did I not tell you, the grandson of Oropher's manner bears little resemblance to his sire?" Celeborn murmured, almost too quiet for Legolas to hear.

The Lady's fair head dipped once in acknowledgement, and her smile changed, grew brighter if that were possible. "I find it interesting you have the charismatic appeal of your father, and yet I sense you are loathe to be set apart by title or station. The arrogance bred into the sons of Doriath, it seems, has passed over you entirely. Your lack of vanity Thranduil must find terribly troubling."

Celeborn did not take offense at her criticism of his kinsmen, in fact, his expression softened with obvious affection toward his wife and he lifted the back of her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

Her eyelashes fluttered for a second at the kiss. "I remember meeting Thranduil for the first time when he was near your age. Ellith trailed along in his wake as if he was a well-spring born to quench their thirst, rather than a young Lord in the favor of King Thingol." The smile twisted into a smirk, "It will be fascinating to see if you trail ellyn, such as my grandsons, in much the same way..." 

Her eyes gaze passed to the left of him where Elrond's sons stood. "For all their jovial flirtations and lust, my grandsons feel protective of you here in my presence. Why they would feel this way is a mystery... I bear no ill will toward your people or your King."

Legolas found himself agreeing, "I have always found my King's desire to hold our people apart perplexing. You are our nearest neighbors, but we exists as strangers rather than allies. Your power is great; I feel it like the warmth of the summer sun upon my face, but I sense nothing from you which would give me cause to fear or mistrust you on first meeting."

Galadriel seemed pleased by this, and the tension level of their party and the gathered onlookers both seemed to ease. "Why have you come to us this Midwinter, Legolas? Is there something here within in my lands you hope to find?"

He shook his head. "I am here because I wanted to meet you, and I hoped to assure you I am not my father," Legolas stated, firmly. "It is my desire to be a part of the world beyond the borders of our lands. Your invitation reminded me of a promise I made long ago, and I thank you for offering your hospitality to me, and to Lillien."

Legolas stepped aside to allow Galadriel to see the elleth at his back. He didn't remember stepping in front of Lillien, using his body to block her from Galadriel's view, but obviously he had and perhaps unconsciously the Prince felt the need to protect her until he knew their welcome was secured.

Galadriel's eyes widened, "You have carried the little star to me." Her relief was palpable. To Lillien, Galadriel extended a hand, "Child, I have been able to feel your powers growing stronger, wild and unchecked, for centuries. This troubled me greatly." She took Lady Lillien's hands in her own. "We have much work ahead of us. And your kinsman are eager to meet you. You have both an uncle and an aunt here in Caras Galadhon and many cousins from both your mother's and father's kin. Your father's father and mother reside in Rivendell. I will see a message is sent to them, and in the spring, I am certain they will want to meet the grandchild they did not know was left behind in Thranduil's Court."

Lillien didn't seem to know how to take this, and Legolas understood. Many children in the Woodland Realm were raised by a single parent or orphaned outright during the last age, or since. Blood kin bonds were treasured above all else. In their absence, Legolas admired how the Silvan wood-elves formed their own orphan clan 'families' to support each other, high-born children were not so lucky when it came to support. If they did not gain the favor of the King, or at least his notice, they suffered from a terrible sense of isolation. 

It wasn't any wonder having children of her own was so important to Lillien. 

Legolas put a comforting hand on her arm as a show of support, and the small trepidatious smile she offered him only added to the urge Legolas had to hug her. As far as he was concerned, Lillien was his kin, now, too. His father loved her enough to let his guard down for a short time, and though it ended badly, with his father retreating behind the emotional safety of his icy walls, Legolas now had more hope for their King than ever before.

"I have come to study, as you asked of me, my Lady," Lillien said, finally. "As for the rest, I would like to meet my kin, but I admit I am afraid."

Lord Celeborn's expression softened, and his voice was soothing as he addressed her, "Have no fear, Lillien. Nothing need happen this day, except for you to rest yourself from the ride here. Guest rooms await you, as do the bathing pools and a light meal. We will see you in the morning."

In unison, Legolas and Lillien heaved relieved sighs at the thought of being clean, fed and falling into a warm bed. 

Legolas nodded, "Thank you, my Lord."

To his grandsons, Celeborn added, "I am eager to hear of your adventures in the Woodland Realm, of course, and to learn where our Haldir has disappeared to."

Legolas shot them a look that said, "I told you so." But, he remained silent. 

Once they were out of earshot, or what they assumed was hearing range, Lillien turned to Legolas and whispered, "Oh, Legolas, is she not the most beautiful Lady you have ever seen?"

Smiling, Legolas nodded, "The tales of her beauty are not exaggerated, are they?"

Their party waded through a sea of unfamiliar faces, but for a moment, the span of an eye's blink, Legolas thought one of those faces bore the familiar large green eyes and high cheekbones of his Tauriel. He blinked and the vision disappeared, so the Prince attributed the ghostly image to fatigue and his ever present heart's longing.


	9. Chapter 9

There were many reasons his mind and body would not allow Legolas to find sleep, so he left the strange bed in the unfamiliar room clad only in a belted robe of fine deep blue silk. The fabric seemed to float around his body as he walked down the short passage to Lillien's room. A quick glance inside showed his father's lover sleeping, and while her successful bid for rest helped to alleviate some of Legolas' tension, it also served to chastise the Prince further for his failure to follow suit. 

Legolas turned and bumped chests with the Lord of the Golden Wood, who put a firm hand on his upper arm to steady him. "Is all well, Legolas?"

Glancing back at Lillien's door, Legolas met Celeborn's curious expression with shrug. "I wanted to make sure Lillien had everything she needed. I should have made the effort earlier, but I lost track of time in the bath..." His words were cut off by Lord Celeborn's fisting his hands in Legolas' robe and dragging him in for a passionate kiss. 

The manner of Celeborn's kissing, his natural dominance in every aspect of the claiming of Legolas' mouth, was welcome and somehow soothingly familiar to the Prince's raw nerves. 

When the grip on his robe loosened, it was only so Celeborn's hands could caress his chest and insinuate themselves into his robe to pet him as they continued to kiss. 

Legolas panted against Celeborn's lips, his eyes lowered to the silver Lord's lips, damp and swollen as he imagined his were. "You excel at kissing."

"The art of kissing is but one of many skills I can claim mastery over. Another you have personal knowledge of, if you remember our time together in Rivendell, is massage." He backed Legolas down the hall to his own guest room and closed the door, pressing his back into it until the latch clicked into place behind him. "Why is it you are not sprawled naked on the bed lost to slumber, beautiful Prince?"

Legolas had been asking himself the same for hours and his breath left him in a huffed sigh of frustration. "Rest assured, I am quite exhausted. My body was soothed by the bath from the exertions of the ride, but my mind... races." 

Celeborn nodded, "I have experience with nights such as you are having, Legolas. Come and get into bed, I will help you to quiet your thoughts." 

The Prince was happy to shed the robe and crawl back onto the soft feather mattress. He covered the lower half of his body with the thin sheet, but it did little to hide the erection Celeborn's kisses and touches had awakened.

When Celeborn returned from the wash stand with a corked container of massage oil, his gaze caught on Legolas' arousal and he added, "Perhaps this is not what you hoped we would be doing, but we will have plenty of time for me to tie you to a bed and ravish you... on another night."

"I think being tied to a bed and ravished by a handsome Eldar Lord is exactly what I need to stop my thoughts."

Lord Celeborn raised an amused brow in his direction, "Let us try this first, mellon."

Legolas rolled onto his belly and settled with his arms stretched comfortably above his head. 

True to his word, Celeborn's strong hands became the Prince's whole world, and the worries he'd carried with him on the ride from his home quieted, losing their hold over him. 

Before sleep claimed him, Legolas murmured his thanks to his gracious, giving host.

 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Do you think he ever wonders?" A familiar male voice queried from somewhere in his bedchamber, a voice in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Dawn was just beginning to edge the horizon with gold, and Legolas felt surprisingly good. He would need to find some way to repay Lord Celeborn in kind during his stay. 

A second voice muttered a response, "Doesn't everyone, brother?"

Legolas opened his eyes and stretched, stifling a yawn as he started to sit up. Or he would have, if the twin sons of Lord Elrond hadn't picked the same moment to climb into his bed, flanking him and pushing him back down to the mattress. "What is going on?" he asked, drowsily.

Elladan gave him an appraising once over, before responding with a grin, "You do not look like our Lord kept you awake all night."

"No," Elrohir was quick to confirm, "The Prince looks well rested."

"And quite clean."

Elrohir did the strangest thing by leaning into Legolas to... Sniff him? "Yes, he smells good, doesn't he?"

"Trees. He always smells like trees. What the forest-elf does not smell of is sex," Elladan commented, dryly. "Why does he not smell of sex? I thought you said our esteemed grandsire came in here last night..."

Elrohir huffed, eyes narrowing in annoyance. "He did. I saw him."

"Perhaps, Legolas was already asleep?"

"Lord Celeborn gave me a massage to help me sleep. Then, I think he left me to snore the night away."

The twins shared an assessing look, which reminded Legolas a great deal of their father's reaction when the Prince would say something unexpected. The thought caused a twinge of longing for the older man, but Legolas pushed it aside, as he had more immediate concerns in the form of Elladan and Elrohir. 

"A waste of the perfect opportunity for sex," Elladan sighed.

Elrohir agreed, "Rest assured, Greenwood Princeling, we shall not waste any chances to bed you during this visit."

Legolas looked from one to the other and matched their lusty smiles with his own, accepting the challenge. "Who wants to be first?"

Elladan tutted, in mock disappointment, "We have decided it is time you experienced all the benefits of being a lover of twins."

"Both of you? At once?" His mouth was hanging open as poor Legolas tried to imagine it. He could feel his pulse speed up and at least one part of him was definitely interested in the radical idea. 

"If you say you only want Elladan, I shall weep and never speak to you again..." Elrohir pouted, but there was only glittering need in his eyes. 

"Come, 'rohir, and feel for yourself just how happy I am to have you both in my bed..." Legolas took his friend's free hand and a placed it where his erect penis bounced against his belly with every ragged breath. "Does this feel like I have any objections to your plans?"

"You and I have never been intimate," Elrohir stated.

Legolas knew this, and it had been more a question of timing than a conscious choice not to have sexual relations with Elladan's brother. "Midsummer past was not the best time to judge my intentions, mellon." He took the calloused warrior hand from his groin and kissed Elrohir's knuckles. "We are here, now. Let us make the most of this morning."

The words proved enough to clear the air between them, sweeping away what might have become a wound if left between them. 

Legolas cupped his cheek and started their lovemaking with a deep, slow kiss, his fingers ghosting over the hints of skin at the collar of the man's fine linen night-shirt. It wasn't good enough, though. Legolas tugged at his shoulders until Elrohir broke the kiss long enough to strip the offending shirt over his head and toss it carelessly away. 

Following his brother's example, Elladan removed his own shirt, then wrapped his arms around Legolas from behind, causing him to give a small happy sigh at the warm strength of the embrace. 

Soon, they were hardly more than a tangle of fine strong limbs and smooth skin with Legolas cradled at the center. 

They took turns at his mouth; Claiming his kisses until his breathing was ragged and his lips swollen. 

The combined menace of their hands undid Legolas completely. Never before had so many hands joined forces to tickle and pet and stroke his exposed skin. No place on his body escaped the twins' fervor, and through all the thorough exploration, new areas of pleasure were awakened for Legolas: the backs of his knees, the curve of his shoulder blade, and most profound discovery was how ticklish he was on the soft skin above his hip bones. Laughter erupted from the Prince, causing puzzled looks to be exchanged between his partners and leading to much more intense examination, squirming and finally resolved into very undignified pleading for the tickling to cease. 

They knew how to build pleasure in his body, layer upon layer, until Legolas was ready to come, but instead of allowing his climax to take him, the half-elven twins halted their efforts, to allow him to slide away from the edge of pleasure, only to begin building up his need anew. 

Legolas threw back his head and moaned when Elladan ran his tongue along the underside of his shaft in long wet strokes. His hips lifted off the bed, wantonly seeking the orgasm they skillfully denied him. 

"Please..." He panted, not caring how craven his pleas sounded to his own ears. 

He was beyond caring, beyond thinking, all he was capable of was feeling, exactly what they had been building him to. 

A mouth took his, demanding entrance with his tongue into the wet heat of the Prince's mouth. The other mouth claimed Legolas' throbbing gwib, relentlessly sucking and applying a clever tongue to the sensitive head with each downward slide. His hands clutched at arms and legs and stoked the flesh where it came into contact with his own, eager to give as good as he was getting.

Starbursts blossomed behind his eyelids as Legolas' body gave up it's creamy ejaculation into the eager mouth of his lover, his cries of release completely swallowed with deep kisses. 

While Legolas drifted, the twins set to work preparing his body for the next phase of their seduction. A thick cock presented itself before the Prince's face, the head purpling and leaking with eagerness, for his inspection. He kissed his way down from its tip to where Elrohir's testicles hung low in their pouch between powerful thighs coiled with tension.

"Suck it," 'Rohir commanded. 

Legolas raised his eyebrows and blinked at being issued such a bold order, but he didn't hesitate to swallow the erection until his nose brushed the dark hair at Elrohir's groin before pulling back and repeating the move, to a groan of appreciation from the dark haired warrior.

"Legolas prefers to be asked nicely, brother. He bristles and does not suck as sweetly if you are impolite."

"Forgive me, Legolas. I beg you, please open your lovely, delicious mouth and suck my qwib."

The prince looked up into his lover's grey eyes and smirked, not feeling like stopping his current activity to bother with words. Legolas figured he could get 'Rohir back later if he was still feeling put out with his demanding nature. 

This moment in time was all that concerned him. His hands alternately stroked the hard muscled thighs or gripped the firm buttocks to draw Elrohir closer, with each thrust he attempted to swallow down all the salty, bitter fluid leaking from the other man's gwib, but he was soon drooling a little of it down his chin to drip on his chest. 'Rohir was just too big and his jaws struggled to stretch enough to take all of him in. 

At some point, Elladan left the bed to retrieve the salve from the washstand, and soon Legolas' attention was once again divided between the brothers. Cool lubricant was worked inside his anus with gently insistent fingers. The digits stretched the sensitive muscle until Legolas could comfortably accommodate the fingers thrusting into him with little to no burning sensation, at all. 

Satisfied Legolas was now properly lubed and stretched, Elladan sat back and wiped his fingers on a damp washing cloth."The Prince is ready for us, brother."

Legolas was more than ready, he was as near to frantic as he could ever remember being in an intimate situation, even Aragorn didn't wind his body's desire this tight. And when he released Elrohir from his mouth and rolled onto his belly, it caused no small amount of amusement for the twins. "How do you want me?" 

"Can you hear me?" Elladan asked, the voice purely a caress in his mind. 

Legolas blinked and nodded, "Yes."

"And what of me?" The sensual rumble made Legolas' gwib twitch. The prince could hear both of them as clearly as he'd heard Lady Galadriel last night.  
It was strange, something he'd never done, mind to mind communication. The intimacy of it made him shudder. "We'll teach you, of course, if you find you like it."Far from being a distraction, the gentle encouragement of his lovers as they helped him settle into position was something Legolas found comfort in. 

They were all far too close to first, or in Legolas' case second, climaxes so they opted to start with simply slicking overly sensitive cocks and balls and playfully thrusting against him in a race to see who would find climax first. Their seed was hot where it spurted over him, but they were thoughtful enough to wipe it all away with a cloth before it cooled and grew sticky.

Elladan rolled onto his belly, offering his firm bottom to Legolas. "I need you inside me, Legolas. Hurry." 

The plea sent prickles of delight down to the base of his spine where his scrotum felt impossibly heavy and sensitive with building desire. His erection never flagged as Legolas moved quickly into position to mount him. Once he was comfortably settled into the heat, he felt the nudge of Elrohir's blunt head at his own anus. 

A few deep breaths and Legolas was soon being fucked into Elladan at the most incredible angle. He pulled nearly all the way out just before Elrohir surged forward, impaling him to the hilt with each thrust, while he made to do likewise to the lover under him. 

"Hold on to me, Legolas," Elladan's voice encouraged him. "We can go at a pace like this for hours."

The Prince nodded, moaning breathlessly, "Yes. Oh mercy, yes." His arms snaked under Elladan's chest and belly, lifting his hips up just a fraction in the best sort of way. 

The twins voices in his mind didn't quite match the labored sounds of their breathing, and Legolas never imagined Elladan had such a filthy mouth, nor such an extensive list of Sindarin and Westron expletives for describing the sexual acts between ellon.

At one point, he growled, "If you make me laugh again, mellon, I'm going to lose my seed before we are ready."

The gwib he'd been stroking against Elladan's belly jerked wildly in his grip and the twin's bottom drove backward onto his phallus, grinding shamelessly. 

Teeth nipped a teasing line along his jaw and dark hair was tickling his chest and arms from behind. 

Elrohir began tugging his body up until Legolas was nearly upright. Elladan followed suit as much as he was able. 

The new position rapidly undid his last bit of control, Legolas bucked and spurted into the tight heat until he was completely played out, but the twins weren't finished with him, yet. 

Elrohir traded places with his brother and they guided Legolas to sit astride him, happily ramming his erection back inside Legolas' bottom. 

Elladan straddled his brother's thighs behind Legolas and it didn't take long for the Prince to understand what they intended.

"Relax, mellon," 'Rohir crooned, stroking the sweat dampened hair back from his face to kiss his cheeks. "Focus on relaxing your muscles for Elladan."

Almost immediately, Elladan's blunt head bumped at the top of his anus, and Legolas felt a moment of panic. 

What thoughts he had left in his overstimulated mind howled they would never both fit inside his arse without destroying him. 

"We will fit. On that you have my word," Elladan assured him, his mindvoice calm and soothing.

"I'm afraid," Legolas confessed, breathlessly. 

Elrohir drew him down for a kiss, and while he was distracted, Elladan applied more salve to both phalluses and scooped a generous glob directly into the place with Elrohir was snugly filling him. It warmed quickly, and even seemed to burn just a bit. 

"Oh..." Legolas groaned against 'Rohir's mouth, but it wasn't pain that dragged the sound from his lungs. His body was sparking with a new awareness of how suddenly, gloriously full his clenching passage was stretched. 

He wiggled his hips, experimentally testing their penetrations.

"Hold still for a few breaths, craven Prince," Elrohir chided. "Let your tight, hot arse get used to us."

Legolas obeyed for a few seconds, but soon became eager for them to move, to do something more than just resting inside him. 

"It doesn't hurt." The relief and awe in his own voice surprised him.

"Oh, Legolas, even deep inside you are sweet Sinda perfection." This was Elladan, who liked to wax poetic when he was in the Prince's bed, and more so when he was in Legolas' body, but those times were still rare enough to be fresh and thrilling for both of them.

Legolas tried to put words to what he was feeling, locked between the lean, powerful bodies, rocked by their combined thrusts. Overwhelmed. Claimed. Lost. Found. Cherished.

It was soon impossible to tell where the twins stopped and he began. 

They were one flesh, sharing breath and a single heartbeat which he could feel pulsing through every inch of him from the top of his head to his pleasure curled toes. So much of their shared pulse found focus in his groin and his overstuffed, throbbing bottom. 

The thrusts milked the secret place deep inside him and his gwib wept a river of sticky tears where it dug into Elrohir's belly with each rock of their bodies. It was good when they timed the thrusts together, but Legolas found it best when Elrohir lifted his ass to welcome Elladan's deeper penetration. Those were the moments when his eyes rolled back and is balls tightened painfully in response to the shared pleasure. 

Elladan growled in his ear, a feral snarl like nothing Legolas had ever heard from him. The sound made a shiver run down his spine and the hair at his nape stand up. The arms around his belly tightened until they felt like steel bands holding him helplessly immobile for his lovers pounding thrusts. Elrohir helpfully stilled his own movement to let his twin find the best angle for the build up to his release. When he came, Legolas howled as a final rough jerk was all the warning he was given before the hot cream flood deep. Elladan's ejaculation went on and on, spilling inside then overflowing the confines of his body to tickle his anus as the deluge sought to escape him. 

The Prince could only imagine what it felt like for Elrohir to suddenly have so much wetness surround him. If the way the lover under him groaned an incoherent babble of Sindarin was any indication, it felt excellent. Elrohir didn't need hard thrusts, or even much movement at all to climax, he was so perilously close, just a lift of his hips and a second wave of heated cream bathed Legolas inside. 

Carefully withdrawing, Elladan guided Legolas to lay on his side between them, he could feel his empty his anus gaping and dribbling ejaculate onto the bed. 

"That was... Intense," Legolas confessed, completely unable and unwilling to move a muscle. 

Elrohir smoothed his pale hair back from his eyes and placed a tender kiss on his sweaty temple, "It is too much for many." There was a sadness in his tone that broke something inside Legolas. "We will understand if it is not something you wish to attempt a second time."

Legolas blinked at him, sex addled brain slowly catching up to the conversation. "Oh no... You don't get to wreck me and then not give me the chance to know what it feels like to return the favor, mellon. To do so would hardly be fair."

"You enjoyed it?" Elladan asked, spreading Legolas' buttocks to inspect the sticky mess they'd left in their wake.

The Prince winced as a too cold cloth bathed his tender anus. "Enjoyed... I do not think that word is strong enough, but I have no better words to explain it." He sighed, "I may need, to invent a new word to convey what it felt like. If I tell this story to Aragorn..."

"Estel knows, mellon."

"Yes, he walked funny for two days before his stubborn man-pride would let us heal him."

"Ada was not happy with us."

"We will not make such a mistake, again. You are going to be healed, and quickly, before we must bathe for breakfast."

Legolas felt himself hauled over a broad shoulder and carted off to the bathing room like a sack of tubers. He was too boneless to put up even a token resistance.


	10. Chapter 10

"I assume you have formulated a plan?" Haldir asked, casually taking the second chair before the fire as the King offered and stretching his booted feet out before him. His tone conveyed the proper amount of respect, even though the question bordered on impertinent. 

Thranduil sipped his wine, outward appearance relaxed, but instinct told Haldir the fine Dorwinion vintage did little to ebb the tension which lived beneath the cold outer shell, like a treacherous current running deep under a river's deceptive blanket layer of ice. 

"I have," the Elvenking replied, simply. 

Haldir allowed himself to peruse everything within Thranduil's personal space, his curiosity undisguised, and found the study nearly as well stocked with tall shelves bearing leather-bound books and yellowed parchment scrolls as Lord Elrond's private library in Rivendell. Richly woven rugs and skillfully adorned tapestries added warmth to what would otherwise be plain bare stone, the jeweled tones brightening what could have been an oppressive space. 

What impressed Haldir most about Thranduil's private sanctuary, even more than his carelessly elegant bedchambers, was the way the room's design seemed to embrace its Master. Everything was the pinnacle of richness and elegance without unnecessarily showy excess. This was a space to suit the tastes of the one who spent his time within this sanctuary, it was not necessary to impress anyone behind those heavily carved oak doors.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin. Soldiers talk when plied with wine and charmed with tales of adventures from far off lands."

Haldir knew this. "You want me to drink with your men and listen for clues."

There was the slightest of nods from Thranduil. "Listen to what they do not say, as well. What makes them uneasy or unwilling to speak even in strictest confidence." One side of his mouth quirked, "Who do the men of my guard fear?"

"I imagine they fear you," Haldir told him.

The King shrugged it off, "Do they serve me out of fear or is the source of their obedience deeper than fear of earning their King's ire?"

"I am an outsider. What makes you so sure your people will speak with me?"

Thranduil's icy eyes met his. "The Woodland Realm has experienced a particularly bountiful year, despite the losses of guards in suspicious circumstances, the people are happy and well fed. I feel moved to unexpected generosity this Midwinter."

Haldir hid a small smirk behind a sip of his wine. 

Thranduil had relaxed a bit after their time together in his bedchambers, as if a silent bond of mutual respect formed during the time the King was taking care of him; Haldir wanted to believe his actions, and his unflinching directness with the King, also had something to do with that. 

"The wine will flow more freely within my Halls over the course of the next two weeks. The traditional gifts of service which are presented at the solstice, will border on extravagance, and why should they not? I am not a dragon to hoard my wealth in a filthy cave and brood over it until it is turned to pure accursed poison. Better to spend the currency on present, and future, good will." He waved a hand in Haldir's direction. "Get them to spill their complaints to you in whatever manner you find works best. Pick apart the threads of their tales and find me what lay at the heart of the pattern, for one must exist. Legolas is seldom far off with his instincts. We have experienced too many coincidences... " 

"I understand my role. And while I poke the underbrush with a stick, seeking the viper's nest, what will you be doing, my Lord?"

Thranduil regarded him, smirking slightly. "I will be guarding your back, of course." 

At Haldir's small surprised gasp, the King raised an eyebrow at him. "I gave Legolas my word no harm would befall you while he was away."

Before he could stop himself, the Marchwarden countered with, "Legolas asks much."

Ignoring Haldir's comment, he continued, "Midwinter is often the time I speak with my Captains about my vision for the year to come. If you stick to the common areas for your flirtations, and resist the overwhelming urge to slip away to meet any one guard for a tumble, I can manage both tasks simultaneously. Fear not, as there will be plenty of scandalous acts which will spill over into the public areas for you to engage in."

The tone was a bit insulting, Thranduil insinuating Haldir would shirk his pledge of assistance in favor of bedding Thranduil's people, choosing his own pleasure over duty. "It will hardly be necessary to poke the bushes with my stick just for information."

Haldir's personal prize was sitting only a few feet from him, sipping wine indolently, completely unaware he was being hunted, at Legolas' request. Legolas need not have even asked, as Haldir's own quest was fueled by a stubbornly prideful desire to complete the one act Thranduil had denied him during the fever of the maca poisoning. 

The King's eyes raked him from hair to boots. "I have no doubt your handsome face will open many beds, with those both sober and intoxicated."

"I am not averse to indulging in casual intimacies when the mood strikes." Haldir downed the last of his wine and set the cup on the table a little more forcefully than he intended, the sound echoed loud in his ears. "Though I may be too busy, with so many tasks set before me." He paused, carefully selecting his next words to have the most effect on Thranduil. "Legolas asked me to keep your thoughts far away from the lovely Lillien while he is away, and I hope to be able to do both tasks simultaneously." 

Echoing the King's own words back at him gave Haldir a small dig of satisfaction to soothe his wounded pride. 

His confession garnered quite an unexpected reaction from the normally placid King, who launched himself with all the power and fluid grace of a tree cat from the chair to loom over Haldir. "Throwing yourself in my path is unnecessary, Marchwarden. Lillien is gone... more than likely never to return to my halls."

The archer's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise, "So you ARE in love with her." Haldir would have allowed himself a smirk if he thought he could get away unscathed, but Thranduil was in his face, long hair brushing the tops of this thighs as the King bent over to put himself nose to nose with Haldir. 

"What you have taken from me cannot be measured..." the King grumbled, almost too softly to hear. "What is it Galadriel, and her infinite capacity for meddling, really wants of Lillien?" 

Not one to take responsibility for the actions of another, Haldir shook his head. "I am not to blame. You lost your Lady the first time Galadriel felt the prickles of her power coming from beyond the Anduin. You had a delay in the inevitable, that is all. Even half Noldor young people are far too rare not be sought and trained. It is dangerous for Lillien to remain unschooled." 

Haldir's eyes lowered to Thranduil's lips, so soft in his memory, and lifted his head the tiny bit which was required to close the gap between their mouths with a quick, rough kiss. 

The King reacted to the stolen kiss as if he'd been slapped instead, putting distance between them, the fingers of one hand brushing his lower lip absently while he glared down at the Marchwarden. "Do not do that again."

"Forgive me, my Lord. Your lips seem to have been in my way. I was merely trying to stand up."

"You have experienced for yourself what foul things can befall one of my son's lovers. Let me assure you, far worse things have befallen mine."

Haldir processed the information with a sick feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"Maca isn't the only poison this elusive snake favors."

This puzzled the Marchwarden, and he said as much, but it was clear Thranduil wasn't going to elaborate, so Haldir pushed him, "If there are other threads to this mystery, I need to know of them. If I am to find this killer, you have to tell me what you suspect."

With a withering glare, Thranduil conceded Haldir's point. "Fine. If you must poke every bush with your stick, it may mean something that for a time Lillien and I were lovers. She fell ill suddenly, quite unexpectedly. I have always believed it could have been a poison. A spontaneous, lethal illness is almost unheard of among the Eldar."

This was a piece of the mystery which started to make everything he'd seen in the last two days make sense. "Legolas did not know you and Lillien were intimate."

"No."

"Why hide such a thing from him?"

He didn't expect an answer, as it was none of his business what the King told his son, but Thranduil did answer, "I have never given up hope he will come to love her and take her as his wife; Legolas would be a far better choice for her than I."

Haldir winced. 

"The only thing which could make this worse is if that insolent brat Tauriel really did not love Legolas, after all, and he's mooned over her all this time for nothing. The division she drove between us, the upheaval she caused, would all be for naught." The King crossed his arms over his chest, "Tell me, Haldir, how fairs my banished lamb in your Golden Woods?"

It was the first time he could remember King Thranduil using his given name, and not his title. Haldir found he didn't particularly like the deep, hard rumble of his name onThranduil's tongue, or the dark shivers it sent skittering through his body in response. "What makes you think we have anyone who might once have been yours?" Haldir's eyes narrowed, "Do you think my Lord and Lady would take in a banished Elda from one of our neighbors?"

"Enough," Thranduil's voice was a whip cracked in the still room, he backed off and move to warm his hands before the fire. "Do not take me for a fool. I know Tauriel resides within your borders. I suggested the Golden Wood to her myself, as a possible haven."

Now, it was dawning on the Marchwarden how relentless Thranduil could be was a negotiator or interrogator. 

Haldir stood up, joining the King before the fire. "The Tauriel I know is as far from a lamb as any I have ever known. Her status as one the finest archers has been skillfully won, rightfully earned. If she yet thinks of this as her home, or you as her King, such old loyalties are fading with the fullness of time. The Lord and Lady value Tauriel for her willingness to reinvent herself, become more than what she is, and as such they have asked her to train as a healer, so her inborn talent is nurtured and allowed to grow. I count her a friend, as does my younger brother."

"And yet Legolas still does not know where she is?" Thranduil's smug question mocked Haldir's friendship with his son.

Haldir gritted his teeth, forced himself to resist the baiting. "I am honor bound to keep her confidence as her brother-in-arms. Legolas will understand the value in such an oath, and I hope he will come to forgive me."

"Tauriel remains one of mine," the King told him.

"Fair Tauriel belongs to none but herself."

"We shall see which of us is correct, in time."

_+_+_+_+_+_  
Lillien was grateful their first morning in Caras Galadhon began modestly. After last night's glorious bath, sleep came easily and deeply. And when the sun rose, Lillien was wide awake and eager to get a look around. 

A soft knock on her door revealed a strikingly lovely, dark haired Lady who introduced herself as Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell and grand daughter to the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. She volunteered herself as guide to give Lillien a tour. 

They walked around for a while in the chilly morning light, and then settled together with another Lady from Rivendell, Alais, in a garden with a small fountain.

"You are lovely, my Lady," Alais said of her, making Lillien blush and lower her eyes. 

"Thank you."

Arwen was quick to agree, "Beautiful. Did you notice her eyes are the rarest violet color?"

Lillien smiled. "High compliments, from two Ladies who are at least as attractive as I, and possibly more so."

"My mother's hair was the same shade as yours," Arwen told her, her tone reverent. "All of her children have the dark coloring of my father, though."

"You speak as though she is gone from you. Is she dead?"

Arwen shook her head, frowning, "Orcs nearly killed her. Father saved her from the journey to the Halls of Mandos, but she was forced to sail and seek healing from the Valar."

"I'm sorry."

"As are we, but it could not be helped. It would have been worse for us to bear, I think, if she died in the attack. Ada carries enough guilt. As long as she lives, there is the hope of a reunion when he sails West someday."

Lillien nodded, thinking of the loss of her own parents when she was very young. "I was young, just learning to speak my first words of Sindarin, when my parents died." She smiled just a little wistfully, "That is my memory of my mother. We were in a garden much like this one and she was pointing out each flower and plant for me to examine, teaching me their names."

Lady Alais patted her hand, and it was comforting, as it was meant to be. 

"Why did it take you so long for you to seek your kin here?"

Lillien didn't know what to say. "I was told I had kin across the river, but at no time did it seem likely I could gain permission to travel beyond the borders of our lands." She shrugged. "After the losses we took at Erebor, the King was more determined than ever to have as little contact with other peoples as possible."

"Such a shame," Alais said. "I have always want to see the Elvenking's Halls for myself."

"Alais is a wanderer," Arwen told her in mock seriousness. "She traveled to Rivendell from Caras Galadhon one summer and never returned."

They shared a look full of meaning, and Alais nodded, "Imladris is beautiful."

"More beautiful than here?" Lillien couldn't believe that.

The other Lady nodded, "It seems unlikely doesn't it? But Caras Galadhon is a city, bursting with life and action. Rivendell is a mere fraction of the size, and it's sweet tranquility is something I have come to love."

A high chime rang out and Arwen smiled, "We are being called to breakfast."

Alais was quick to rise and offer her a warm hand to help her up. "I think I shall take my meal elsewhere, but we will have plenty of time to speak, I am sure. If you need anything, my Lady, please do not hesitate to seek me, or send a message with one of the servants, they know where to find me."

"Thank you."

The table was small, set for their two guest and immediate family only, Legolas and Arwen's brothers were already at their places behind plates heaped with boiled eggs, baked goods and fruit. 

Prince Legolas stood as she approached and went to her, taking her hands in his. "Are you well this morning, Lillien?"

"Yes, my Lord. I am quite well. Lady Arwen has been giving me a tour."

Legolas regarded her, thoughtfully, eyes intent on her face. "Please, for the time we are here, call me simply Legolas."

Lillien opened her mouth to object, but it died on her tongue as Lady Galadriel appeared at his shoulder. "I have heard this, from many who were in Rivendell at Midsummer. Prince Legolas longs to be free of the confines of his social restraints. We must endeavor to give him this, I think, at least for his holiday here in Caras Galadhon."

She nodded, "If this will make you happy... Legolas... I try to do this for you."

"Thank you," the Prince who didn't want to be addressed as her Prince told her. "Come and eat before the food is all cold." 

He ushered her to the seat on his left, and even proceeded to push her chair in for her, making Lillien flush just a little from attention they were receiving from the Lord and Lady because of his fussing over her. "Did you sleep well?" 

Legolas nodded, "I woke well rested." 

Lord Celeborn turned his attention to Legolas and her, "Welcome, honored guests, to our home. We are truly pleased you could join us for the Midwinter solstice."

"The invitation came as a surprise, but pleasant one," Legolas smiled at their host as he said it.

Lillien was quick to agree. "Yes, a wonderful surprise, and I thank you for the hospitality."

Celeborn addressed the twins, "You returned without our Marchwarden."

The pair winced, as did Legolas, at the statement. 

"My father asked Haldir to stay behind and take part in the celebrations in my place, and Haldir was quick to offer any assistance he could," Legolas explained.

"There is more to this story," Galadriel murmured, slightly smiling. Her eyes glittered with amusement.

Lord Celeborn turned his head to meet her eyes, an unspoken question passed between them. 

"Haldir is well."

"If that be the case, I will not chastise him upon his return."

"No harm will befall Haldir. Our King promised Legolas he would see to Haldir's safety personally," Lillien told them, earnestly. 

Lady Galadriel's smile widened. "Of that, I have no doubt." 

"I believe Haldir is helping to solve a mystery," Legolas told them. 

Celeborn nodded, though he still looked thoughtful. "We can speak more of this later." 

Lillien was glad she wouldn't have to take part in that conversation.

_+_+_+_+_+_  
Lillien's hands shook visibly as she entered the Lady's sitting room, and she clenched them into tight fists hoping against hope Galadriel would not be able to feel her fear, but how could she not? 

It was the first time they were meeting without her granddaughter, Lady Arwen, Legolas, or one of the others to act as a buffer between her and the overwhelming presence that was Lothlórien's ruling Lady. 

The time for introductions and politely curious small talk was ended, and Lillien was to have her first lesson this morning.

The room Galadriel chose was spacious, as were most of the rooms Lillien had visited so far in Caras Galadhon, but unlike the others, this talan had only fluttering, sheer drapes for walls. One of the panels moved and Galadriel swept in from a second room concealed behind it. 

"Ah, you are punctual." She nodded to Lillien, in approval and gratitude. "I appreciate those who make an effort not to keep me waiting. The days have grown short and while some of our lessons will necessitate instruction at night, these first few lessons will be better served by more than a candle's light." She motioned Lillien to with a pale, elegant hand, "Come closer, Lillien, and take a moment to experience the vista from our perch."

Lillien obeyed, approaching the edge with no trepidation, as she had taken to climbing trees and endless rope ladders as soon as she was able to toddle, as was the case with most children in the Woodland Realm. The fastest way to reach any destination in Thranduil's domain was in the tree tops, if one didn't care for horses.

The Lady continued to speak, her voice like a melody, soft and even toned. "I will also endeavor to be respectful of your time as well, Lillien, but as you will soon see for yourself, Midwinter is our most cherished solstice in Caras Galadhon, so I hope you will forgive me if I am occasionally detained on errand. Know there is nothing of more import to me than the needs of one of our young people." She offered Lillien a smile which made the younger woman's heart skip a beat, and return with a quickened pace. 

"I understand, of course, my Lady," Lillien assured her, offering her a tremulous half smile she hoped hid the relief she felt. "I help with the events in the Elvenking's Halls at Midwinter, myself." 

How could anyone possibly study with Lady Galadriel without being distracted by the perfection of her? After she formed her feelings into the thought, a second thought followed closely wondering if Galadriel could read her thoughts. Lillien felt color blossom on her cheeks, embarrassed to be so taken with the Lady's beauty that she was drawn to her and terrified by her in turns. 

Galadriel's head turned in her direction, and she noticed Lillien's blush. "I do not believe your thoughts are on the view," the Lady stated, raising a delicate brow in her direction. 

"Do you not know, my Lady? Can you not hear them?" The words slipped out before she could censor them, and she finished on a wince.

The Lady's golden head turned back to look out at the trees. "I suppose if it were my wish, I could. The ability is in me. As it resides in you as well, child, just one of the powers inherent in the blood of the Noldor." She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "The thoughts in a person's head are a whirlwind, one which I have no wish to ride."

"I have never heard the thoughts of others," Lillien confessed. Her other abilities were frightening enough without knowing exactly what those around her felt and thought. "For that mercy, I believe I should be grateful."

"You were born in the last age, were you not?"

Lillien nodded, "Yes, my Lady."

Galadriel sighed, a soft little huff, and crossed the room to pour some wine from a pitch into a crystal goblet. She paused, looking at LIllien over her shoulder, "Would you care for some wine, Lillien? It might help you to relax." 

So even without reading her thoughts, Lady Galadriel could tell Lillien was struggling with their first meeting alone. 

Lillien lowered her eyes, shamed by her lack of composure. "I do not drink wine," she confessed. "I have never had a taste for it. I have other reasons. Not the least of which is the wine preferred in King Thranduil's court is far too potent. It makes my head spin."

Galadriel took a small sip of her wine, and then left it on the table as she crossed back to stand beside Lillien, their bodies closer than they had yet ever been. 

Her upper arm brushed Lillien's and even such an innocent touch made the younger Elda start like a skittish colt. 

"Why do you fear me, young one?" She placed her hands gently on Lillien's shoulders to keep her in place as she spoke, "You have journeyed far to study with me, and I cannot imagine Thranduil would let you make such a trip if he thought my intentions were not motivated by kindness and genuine concern. Has he filled your mind with dark, unflattering tales of my misadventures and failures?"

The shining Lady's expression turned sad, and Lillien hurried to answer, "Oh no, my Lady. The King has said little to me of you, and what tales we have been told were always respectful."

"If that is the case, why do you fear me so strongly?"

Lillien licked her lips, desperately wishing she'd taken up the offer for wine, as her mouth was as dry as a desert the throes of Midsummer. "Nothing you have done since I arrived should cause me to be fearful of you, please believe me. What I fear is my own disconcerting reaction to you. I have had lovers, for I am no innocent, and both were very beautiful, but neither of them robbed me of my very breath when I looked upon them."

This blunt confession surprised a laugh out of Lady Galadriel. The smile she gave Lillien was one of the very breath stealers she was talking about, and then she peer down at Lillien with her very blue eyes under lowered lashes. "I believe we have come upon our first requirement as teacher and student. If you insist on offering up compliments with such adorable sweetness, I will have no choice let to me but to kiss you." And then, before Lillien could react to the hands tightening on her shoulders, Galadriel leaned in and did kissed her. The silky slide of lips lasted a few heartbeats and once broken left Lillien blinking, utterly dazed, at Galadriel. Her mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out save a little squeak better suited to a field mouse. 

Lady Galadriel wasn't finished, though. "And I think a hug is required, as well, if it has been so long since you have been kissed you have forgotten how to kiss back." 

Lillien accepted the hug, inhaling the scent of lavender that lingered on Galadriel's skin and hair from her morning bath. Lillien's bath had been decorated with sprigs of lavender as well, as had the pillows on her bed. 

Galadriel's lips came to rest on her cheek, warm and soft. "I will tell you a great secret, Lillien. I find myself fiercely jealous Thranduil has had you all to himself for such a long span of time. What right has he to hoard the pure, innocent beauty of your light away from the world?" She kissed her, again, adding, "Fair child... I have you, now."

"You... You think me fair, my Lady?"

"I think you must not have proper looking glasses in your woods, if you must ask such a question." 

Galadriel took Lillien by the hand and led her to a tall mirror tucked away in a corner of the concealing drapes. "Look at yourself, Lillien. See yourself with the eyes of a stranger."

In the reflection, Galadriel's chin rested on her shoulder, and soon her lips began pressing hot little kisses down the line of Lillien's neck to the bare skin of her shoulder. 

"Should we be doing this?" Lillien queried, anxiously. 

The reflection Galadriel smiled, amused and almost wicked. "This is not the lesson I expected I would need to teach you on our first day, but it is an important one, nonetheless. You are a rare treasure, young one, a sweetly begotten mix of Sinda ice and Noldor fire, the likes of which is sadly all but gone from this world." 

Galadriel's arms came up to encircle her around her middle, a hug from behind, and her smooth ageless cheek pressed against Lillien's, and at the younger woman's surprise she said, "I do not need to read your thoughts, Lillien. I see very well the sadness in your eyes, the pain buried deep in your young soul. I fear your grief is from a loss far more brutal than simply the loss of ones parents, though your isolation is in part due to their deaths, I have no doubt." 

The hug tightened until Lillien could barely draw air. Galadriel's gaze bore into her, catching and holding her own for several long minutes. "I will do all that is in my power to heal you, body and soul, but in turn you must heed me. Can you bring yourself to trust me? I will be the one person in this world who will speak truth, no matter how much it might frighten or upset you, and I will never betray the trust you offer up to me."

Lillien winced, because she'd always felt Thranduil's withdrawal from her as a betrayal of the power she'd given him over her very heart and soul. "I was betrayed, once."

"When I discover the one who has done this to hurt you, they will find me a force to be reckoned with."

Lillien winced, "I did it to myself, my Lady. I knew better than to fall in love with him. I knew such a sweet, forbidden ache could only lead to disaster."

"Thranduil," Galadriel confirmed. 

"Yes." Lillien confessed, and felt better for it. "From the time I was young, it was clear to me, and to everyone at court, Thranduil was grooming me to be the Queen who would in time stand beside Legolas. Our Prince is dear to me, for he is so terribly kind and possesses a good heart, but no matter how much time the King forced us to spend in each other's company, we were not meant to find love with each other." She bit her lip, nervously. "I expected one day to wake to find us betrothed, whether we loved each other or not."

Galadriel kissed her temple. "No. He cannot force you. I will not allow it."

"How I came to love the King instead is a mystery to me. My Lord Thranduil can be arrogant and condescending, and I believe only mules could rival him when he is being particularly stubborn."

The Lady chuckled, affectionate and sympathetic. "It is something I have long pondered in my own mate, but it may be enough to know you do love him. Thranduil's path is not an easy one, but perhaps that is why you have been given charge of his heart." 

With a final kiss to Lillien's shoulder, Galadriel released her from the protective circle of her arms. "All will be well, Lillien. Try not to fret on things over which you have no control. You are among friends here, and everything will work out as it is meant to."


	11. Chapter 11

Thranduil is truly magnificent, Haldir thought glumly to himself as he watched the Sinda King move between opponents. 

From where he stood in the crowded, rowdy training arena, the King of the Woodland Realm pivoted and flowed like a dancer, knocking his way through half a dozen of his best young guardsman with a pair of blunted practice swords. He started with a single guard and dispatched him easily, so Thranduil called for another, but the replacement faired little better than the first. 

Soon a pair of guards stepped up and challenge him. He beat them, but at least they managed to keep their feet and split his focus somewhat before landing on their butts in the dirt to the cat-calls and jeers of their fellows. 

From that point on, it was an ever increasing number of guards vying to pit their meager skills against the prowess of the lethal silver whirlwind of a King.

Haldir wanted no part of such an exercise in futility and public humiliation. 

The King's plan to drink and chat up his guard while delivering the yearly gifts appeared to be working. The pair had been at it now for nearly a week, traveling to each remote outpost and village side by side. 

Each evening had them retiring to the balcony between their respective rooms, a sort of neutral territory where Haldir would offer his up his insights and any bits of interesting information he gleaned in an informal verbal report. 

Thranduil listened patiently, at times asking very pointed questions and generally picking his observations apart looking for the pattern which would lead them to their murderer. 

Early on in this endeavor, the King learned biting comments gained him no more than a frown and disdainful sniff from the Marchwarden, and occasionally a stinging, and unexpected, retort. 

The last two nights Haldir found Thranduil less prickly and more... Amiable. 

When the conversations focused on guard rotations and training protocols, an outside observer might think they were friends, or at least comrades in arms who respected each other. Each time Thranduil showed himself to be a concerned, competent leader, Haldir was forced to give him a small measure of grudging respect. Things only became contentious when one or the other of them made mention of a taboo subject of which Haldir compiled quite a mental list in the last week. 

Topics to be avoided included: the time Haldir spent in the King's bed, any mention of Lady Lillien, Haldir's friendship or intimacy with Legolas, Men, Dwarves, Wizards-Gandalf the Grey specifically- and Lords Celeborn and Elrond. Mentions of Lady Galadriel brought any conversation to a grinding halt and sent Thranduil stomping off to refill his wine. 

Once he discovered this, Haldir made sure to mention Galadriel whenever he wanted to tweak the King's temper, or just when he needed more wine. 

Legolas never mentioned the King's drinking to him specifically, and Haldir wondered if Thranduil was more temperate when his son was in residence. He imagined if the Anduin magically turned to Dorwinion wine, Thranduil would endeavor to drink as much of it as possible before it drowned him. 

At some point during his training battles, Thranduil's fine linen shirt had been rent with one of the practice swords, and he'd stripped it off. 

This explained why Haldir had a painfully throbbing erection making a very obvious tent in the front of his leggings. 

The archer beside him certainly noticed, and to Haldir's chagrin patted him sympathetically on the arm, "Welcome to the Woodlands of King Thranduil, fair Marchwarden. Take it from one who knows your pain, don't waste your seed stroking to thoughts of the King's royal sword driving home in your arse. Such will only lead to unnecessary misery."

Another of Thranduil's guards chimed in, "If you want danger with your sex, we can take you into the woods and rouse a bear from hibernation for you to bend over for."

The two ellyn laughed and patted each other on the shoulders, enjoying their little joke, and the look of startled horror it caused on Haldir's normally expressionless face.

If only the ellyn knew Haldir stroked himself to climax at least one time each night, often starting immediately after he parted ways with the King, to the very image in his mind's eye of Thranduil's hot mouth on his gwib, or what it felt like to be inside the grumpy bear of a King, maybe the others would have offered to help him out of his current hardened state. 

Three more guards admitted defeat, but obviously felt some pride in stripping the King of one of his swords for a few minutes, and his torn shirt more permanently. 

King Thranduil's skin was as pale and free of perspiration as when he'd begun and for the second time Haldir was grateful he wasn't being subjected to a humiliating drubbing by the much larger, more powerfully built swordsman. 

Thranduil called a halt and went to dip a cup of water for himself from the bucket on Haldir's right side. His head came up to drink and Haldir's eyes were captured by the line of his throat as he swallowed. 

The King's lashes lowered for a second, and then his cool, blue eyes turned to regard Haldir. 

"You appear flushed, Marchwarden. Anxiously awaiting your turn to pick up a sword and face me?" The tone was only slightly mocking. 

It didn't take the King long to notice Haldir's bulging groin, and his eyes widened slightly, betraying surprise as others would with a gasp. His hand came up to grip Haldir's shoulder. "There are refreshments in the smaller training room. Walk with me."

Dutifully, the Marchwarden followed the King, and the crowd parted to allow them to exit. Before he knew it, Haldir was being shoved into a cramped weapon storage closet and dragged by the arm into a dark, secluded corner. 

"I thought we were going for refreshments?" Haldir asked, frowning.

"We are," Thranduil assured him, in a low growl. 

A hand thrust into the front of Haldir's leggings, quick as a snake, and took his cock in a firm grip, stroking the swollen organ roughly.

Haldir opened his mouth to object, but found it suddenly full of Thranduil's tongue. 

Thranduil's free hand twined in his hair and tugged his head back, painfully. 

Haldir soon found himself grinding into the hand on his organ... mindlessly seeking gratification.

"How thoughtful of you to prepare a special snack for me," Thranduil rumbled against his cheek, and his twisting wrist motions tightened Haldir's testicles in their sac. 

The King found Haldir's reaction amusing, and soon fingers tickled along his scrotum and circled the ring of his anus, causing Haldir to moan in pleasure and grow even more frantic against the King's hand. 

"What do you say we make pact? I will find you a skilled partner to challenge me in the training arena, and if you can manage to score a hit on me, I will bend you over, as you so obviously crave. If you can score two hits between you, I will take you to my bed for a whole night and show you the techniques I learned under King Thingol himself in Doriath."

Haldir hissed like a boiling kettle, while the cock in the King's hand jerked and spilled, hot sticky ejaculate over Thranduil's fingers and down his wrist. 

Thranduil licked it up with a hum of appreciation. "I'd forgotten how good fresh semen can taste. I doubt you remember much of what transpired during your exposure to the vile root, but I admit enjoying dragging tasty offerings from you." 

Eyes narrowing, Haldir's lips quirked into a smug smirk. "I do not know what Legolas shared with you of his experiences with maca, but rest assured while it may have appeared I was rendered completely insensible, my mind was surprisingly... Lucid. Nearly the entire time. Every word. Every act. Such vivid details etched forever into my memory. The greatest of these... The tightly clenching Royal inferno around my gwib... a paradise I will never feel the likes of again, even if I live a dozen ages..."

This brought that tiny lovely gasp from Thranduil, and the dawning of a revelation for the arrogant ruler. "I see."

Having won the verbal sparing match emboldened him, and Haldir heard himself saying, "I accept your challenge, my Lord, with one added condition. With the first score, you take me here in this room, immediately. I've grown tired of awaiting your convenience." 

The King smirked, "You will score no points on me, Marchwarden. Prepare yourself for continued disappointment."

Something occurred to Haldir, "I hope you enjoyed the refreshment. If I had known your preferred snacks included my ejaculate, I probably would not have wasted it on the hand towels after our nightly reports. Your servants must think me a horrible guest."

Thranduil played right into his hand. "Do not think to waste your seed in such a manner, again," the King commanded, making Haldir's cock twitch between them. 

As a part of their nasque relationship, Lord Celeborn never let him stroke himself without express permission, and never ever to orgasm. His body belong to his Lord, and Haldir preferred to build the tension in his loins until Celeborn saw fit to grant him the heady sweetness of release. "Self pleasuring is not allowed when my Lord and I are engaged in nasque in Caras Galadhon. I am made to give my release to my Master, in his time."

The King's eyes widened, speculatively. "How many times have you stroked yourself to orgasm after I leave you to your own devices at the end of the night?"

"Eight." There was no hesitation because Haldir kept track of all of them.

"In less than a week?" The King seemed incredulous. "What would Celeborn do to you if his submissive pet confessed such a transgression?"

Haldir shivered, recalling some of Lord Celeborn's more creative punishments. "I would be punished for breaking my vows."

The corner of Thranduil's beautiful mouth twitched, "It is a good thing I am nothing like Celeborn." The King turned from him, sweeping his way to the door, but before he opened it, he looked back at Haldir over his shoulder. "I think you owe me those eight ejaculations. You can be sure I will collect on the debt before you return to your side of the Anduin."

A violent shudder ran through Haldir's body, from the top of his head down to the toes in his boots at the idea of Thranduil collecting eight of his orgasms between now and Legolas' return. 

The crowds had grown during their little break in the action, obviously word spread of the King taking on all the guards and beating them. 

Thranduil went to the rack and pulled a practice blade, testing the weapon's balance, then offering the hilt to Haldir. 

The Marchwarden smirked, "Is this a yearly Midwinter humiliation to which Legolas is subjected?"

The icy blue eyes sparkled as they met his. "No. This is entirely for your benefit."

Haldir took the sword from the King, his mind reeling at the revelation. This was Thranduil's idea of flirting and foreplay, and he was giving Thranduil exactly the responses the King wanted.

"I need one of my Captains to volunteer."

All the assembled Eldar turned their gaze to where the Captains were gathered. And in turn, those warriors looked at Haldir hefting a practice sword and three hands went up, all assuming they would fight the Marchwarden.

"Feren," the King called. "You are the newest of my Captains. Come and join forces with the Marchwarden. I will offer a purse of gold coins to each of you if your combined skills can score two hits on me."

The crowd gave a collective gasp, and Feren shot a sneer in Haldir's general direction, but he did not back down. 

At the rack, the Captain who replaced Tauriel since her banishment selected his own blunted blade and elbowed rudely past Haldir with a crossly hissed, "Stay out of my way. I wouldn't want the Prince's bed-toy to get hurt."

The comment carried to Thranduil, and he shot a smirk at Haldir because he knew animosity existed between the visitor from the Golden Wood and Feren. That tension was exactly why the King would select Feren for his partner. The fight was a test, but for whom, Haldir didn't know. Perhaps, they were both being judged.

Feren charged the King, blade held high. Haldir was relegated to trying to get in a side attack, and it bothered him. The smart thing would be to make a plan, formulate a strategy to work together to get under Thranduil's guard. 

There was no time for that now. 

Haldir took whatever opportunities came his way, hoping beyond hope Feren's tenacious rabid dog fighting style would wear the King out as all the other guards had been unable to.

Haldir came near to a touch more than once, the first time he barely ducked a flashing blade and his own low swing whispered past Thranduil's left thigh, ruffling the fabric, but not tearing it. The King adjusted his stance with a baring of his teeth at Haldir. Almost, but not quite. 

The second time, Haldir was knocked on his arse in the dirt, but not one to take such a thing in stride, he rolled and the tip of his sword connected with the back of Thranduil's soft booted calf. 

The crowd roared as Haldir scrambled to his feet. 

Feren's sneer twisted in rage, but the Captain was tiring. His sword held most often now at mid-guard and his breathing was rough. 

Haldir made his move, bring his sword crashing against Thranduil's over and over, attempting to drive the King back into the thick of the spectators, who had to fall back or risk feeling the sting of a blade themselves. And the King had to further divide his attention to watch for bystanders. 

The plan was working, Thranduil was retreating, one achingly small step at a time, but it was taking too damned long. Haldir's arm muscles didn't enjoy repeatedly ringing his blade against the King's, and they were on fire with protest. 

From the corner of his eye, Haldir caught the movement of a shadow, and before he knew what was happening, one of the huge sandbags used for training was hitting him square in the back, taking the breath from him and sending him forward into Thranduil. They both went down, Haldir sprawled on top of the sweat slick chest of the silver haired King. His sword was flat between their bellies. And had it been turned, even blunted, they both would have been gravely injured. 

The expression on Thranduil's face was first concerned, for he too felt the steel practice blade between their bodies, then it shifted to murderous white hot rage.

Haldir drew a gasping breath and scrambled backward off the King, allowing him to sit up. He dropped his sword as Thranduil surged to his feet, bellowing like the bear his guards had named him earlier. 

"Cheat!" the King spat at Feren. "You have not the skill to best me with a blade, so you dare to attack without honor, outside of the rules of this contest." He looked to Haldir, who was still rubbing what he was certain would soon be a mighty bruise across his lower abdomen, and he growled, "This fight is over. Your prize is forfeit. You are fortunate someone was not severely injured with that bag." 

The King's mouth, the one Haldir could still faintly taste from the kisses in the armor closet, twisted into a sneer, "Get him out of my sight."

To Haldir, Thranduil said, "Do you require a healer?"

"I don't think so. The blade was flat when I fell on you."

The King nodded, using his ruined shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and chest. 

"If he hadn't been cheating, I would have called that a touch," Haldir chided him, softly.

Thranduil approached him, advancing until they were chest to chest. His hand fisted in the fabric of Haldir's tunic and he dragged Haldir to his toes and kissed him, hard. 

Those who lingered after the fight, not many given the King's anger and Feren's public disgrace, witnessed their Lord plundering Haldir's mouth ruthlessly. 

Someone dared to whistle their appreciation. A few course cheers and some laughter followed them as Thranduil shoved Haldir in the direction of the closet and Haldir's coming reward.

The King scooped up one of the oil lamps kept in a small shelf just inside the door and opened the lid. With the freezing temperatures outside, the animal fat was partially congealed and the Marchwarden gasped as chilly fingers yanked his leggings to his ankles and parted his buttocks in search of his anus. 

"It's cold," Haldir whined.

An equally cold, but mercifully slippery finger breached his first ring of muscle, then retreated. A glob of iced up fat landed to melt in the cleft between his cheeks and was easily worked into his passage. 

The King's breathing was as labored, loud in the quite storage room, as his. "On you knees," Thranduil demanded. 

Whether it was the tone of command, or exhaustion from the fight, Haldir's legs folded under him. 

Thranduil freed his erection from its confinement and tugged it once to coat it with lubricant. He grabbled pale smooth thighs and dragged Haldir's ass against his groin, then proceeded to press the tip to his puckered anus. 

While the King held back to give him time to accept the blunt head, Haldir clenched his muscles and pushed back against the invading organ, filling himself and drawing a hiss from Thranduil. "I was trying to go easy on you," he laughed, darkly. 

"I don't need you to show mercy, my Lord," Haldir ground out between clenched teeth. "Fuck me."

Thranduil clucked his tongue in disapproval, "Who gives the orders?" His hand came down on Haldir's bare butticks with a stinging slap. "I do."

"I thought you don't like games."

The King answered by withdrawing and slamming back into him with enthusiasm. "For someone who offers the use of his arse to a set of Noldo twins, you still manage to be adequately tight."

"A high compliment indeed from the Sinda King who hasn't had his backside plowed in an Age, or more." 

"I fully intend to return the favor, ache for ache." He lifted Haldir's bottom slightly and the angle was instantly a hundred times more satisfying for Haldir. 

The Marchwarden groaned. "Yesssss. Ugh... When you kissed me, I was worried you were going to throw me over a bench and use me in full view of all the guards."

"I considered it," Thranduil ground out. "It would have been over too fast with an audience cheering me on. Hardly the reward you deserved for your two hits."

Haldir huffed, "The first one missed."

"No, it didn't. I have a bruise on my thigh to prove it." It was then that the King realized his arms were wrapped around Haldir's middle, and he hastily asked, "Am I hurting your abdomen?"

Haldir was surprised Thranduil could form such thoughts with how passionately he was pounding into his body, he could barely mutter coherently, "A little pain is good."

The King froze, his arms falling away. "You enjoy pain during sex?" He sounded incredulous, and more than a little disturbed, by the concept.

"I said a little pain. Spanking, paddling, binding my genitals to deny my release, these I can endure because they enhance the pleasure."

"Tell me something. Has your beloved Lord Celeborn ever filled your well fucked passaged with a knotted length of silk soaked in wine, then sucked your gwib as he tugged the knots free, one by one, until you were intoxicated and begging him to use you more?"

It was Haldir's turn to be shocked, and he rolled over to confront the King. "How do you know about that?"

Thranduil smirked down at him, rubbing his swollen, leaking gwib with more gelatinous oil. "It was one of Elu Thingol's tricks. I always wondered if he went around offering instruction to the other young Lordlings in Doriath." He tossed his head the way a horse does when irritated, "Apparently, he and Melian favored Sinda youth." 

The King crawled forward on all fours until he had Haldir flat on his back in the dirt. His hands placed the Marchwarden's ankles on his shoulders and he dragged Haldir close, so he could push back inside. "Still, I suppose they aren't the only ones. You are the most attractive Sinda to visit in hundreds of years, and I will enjoy watching your face as I spill my seed in you." 

His thrusts brought little grunts from Haldir and it wasn't long before the King had him folded nearly in two, moaning and cursing. 

"Do not come," the King commanded. "You already ejaculated once. If you are as well trained as you say, it should be no problem for you to let me finish first."

The ground was cold and unforgiving under his back, but it made a nice contrast to the warmth of Thranduil's lean muscled torso on top of him. The King's greater height meant in this position he was in kissing range and he timed the merciless ravishing of his bottom with his tongue plundering Haldir's gasping mouth. 

Haldir knew when the King was getting close to his orgasm; his forehead creased in concentration, once controlled movements becoming less smooth, even a bit frantic. 

Thranduil lifted his face to meet Haldir's eyes through the silver spill of his hair as the Marchwarden felt the final telltale slaps of the King's hips against his bottom before the warmth flooded his passage, overflowing and spilling into the dirt. He let out a hoarse laugh, "Such a face..."

"I was wishing I'd chosen a less filthy place to collect my prize."

The corner of Thranduil's mouth lifted, an almost smile. "I have a nicely heated bathing pool in my suite, as you know." He withdrew slowly from Haldir's arse, causing a small gush of semen to leak out. "Poor Marchwarden. Who knew you were so... Fastidious."

"I suppose it was worth the need for a bath."

Thranduil smirked, eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. "Are you paying me a compliment?"

"Uh huh," Haldir groaned, wincing as he tried to get up, and finding just about every inch of him hurt. "I would have made a better compliment, but I haven't been allowed to come, and either I took a blow to the head, or the phuta melted a part of my brain." 

This time the King did laugh, and Haldir liked the sound of it.

Thranduil helped him to his feet and he was grateful. He was less appreciative of the King's hands lifting his tunic to get a look at his belly, but when he tried to slap the hands away, Thranduil caught his wrist in a vice grip. "You are going to the healers. Now. The bruising is worse than I feared. You could have more serious internal bleeding."

"So could you. We both fell on that sword."

"Fine. I will go with you," the King grumbled. "And then I am going to gut that weasel and..."

"No. We need proof of his crimes."

"I am King, his sworn Lord, and he attacked me."

Haldir put a hand on his shoulder. "Some will say he was just caught up in the spirit of the competition and wanted the gold."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The King's personal healer took one look at Thranduil and grimaced. 

They must have looked a fright to elicit such a strong negative response. Haldir bit his lip to stop a tired grin from forming.

"I heard what happened," the Silvan ellon told them. "Feren should be stripped of his position. And you..." He waved a hand at them, "I do not wish to know what you two were doing for the last hour when you should have been making your way here." He filled a bucket with steaming water from a cauldron hanging over the fire. Then, he poured it into a pair of deep washbasins. "My Lord, this basin is for you. I will help our guest wash, as I imagine his bruising is much more troubling." 

The healer addressed Haldir, "Take that filthy tunic off, please. If you want a trophy of your ravishment by our King, I can have it laundered and returned to you."

Haldir's eyes went as wide as saucers, so shocked was he by how the healer spoken not only to him, but to the King. 

"Don't look at me as if I have gone as mad as a brown Wizard. I was the healer who brought Thranduil into this world, so he has to put up with my... Eccentricities."

"I do not have to like it," Thranduil countered. 

"I do not have to give you a draught for the pain you are going to feel tomorrow."

Haldir couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped from him, but he blamed the exhaustion and excellent sex for his lack of control in hiding his amusement. 

"Get on with it, would you? I have more ravishment to inflict upon the Marchwarden tonight."

"Tomorrow night. At the earliest. He may have cracked a rib or sustained a concussion. Rutting is going to make it worse."

Thranduil sighed. Haldir sighed, too. And the healer shook his head at the pair. "If I had known all it would take to see a return of your more base appetites was a pretty, new Sinda face... I would have sent a message to Galadriel two hundred years ago requesting a few be sent here."

"If you must know, Haldir and I have had unfinished business since my Coronation."

"Is that so?"

Haldir nodded. "Your new King rejected me. I have never forgiven him for it."

"Wounded your pride, did he, pretty face?"

"My father is half Noldo."

The healer looked up from washing Haldir's hands. "How many brothers do you have?"

Haldir blinked. "Two." How could he know that?

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Sinda blood doesn't breed as well, but toss in just a hint of Silvan or Noldorin, and vinë start popping out all over the place, like pretty little warrior rabbits."

"My brother is a healer." 

"Good. The more the merrier. War is coming. Someone has to tend the wounded. Good King Thranduil banished the last Elda who showed any real promise with healing."

The King's back stiffened and he turned to shoot an icy glare at the healer, his jaw muscles clenched.

Haldir couldn't help but add to that glare. "Do you mean Tauriel? I have heard it said, from more than one source, she is a gifted healer for one so young. My brother is one of those she is training with, and he raves about her skill. Another year, perhaps two, and Galadriel will name her an apprentice. Rumil is hopeful she will be named his apprentice."

"Galadriel is a meddling..." Thranduil started, but stopped mid-diatribe when both Haldir and the healer broke into uncontrolled chuckles at the King so easily taking their bait. 

Drawing himself up to his full height, Thranduil waved a dismissive hand in their direction. "I have no concussion or cracked ribs. What I do have is thirst." 

To Haldir, he added, "I will have food delivered to your rooms, accept it from the hands of my personal chef only, and a guard will be stationed outside your door while you recover."

The King stalked off, grumbling unhappily under his breath.


	12. Chapter 12

"If I'm not mistaken, your sister has need of your assistance in the solar," Lord Celeborn told Elladan, as he approached the trio making their way back from a whirlwind tour of the twins favorite tree-top vantage spots in Caras Galadhon. "And do take your brother with you."

It was obviously a dismissal, and one so smoothly executed Legolas couldn't help but smile just a little. 

When Elrohir opened his mouth, Celeborn cut him off, "I will see to the rest of our guest's tour this afternoon myself."

The twins knew defeat when they were presented with it, and so they made to go, bowing to Lord Celeborn and Legolas. 

"I will see you at dinner..." Legolas called out to their retreating backs, and turned to see Celeborn with his lips curved up with amusement. 

They contemplated each other in silence for a few moments, just as they had the first time the pair stumbled upon one another in the gardens in Rivendell. 

"I thought perhaps you could use a small respite from the amorous attentions of my grandsons. They seem to have been born with the combined sexual drives of both Men and Eldar."

Legolas shrugged, offering his host a small grin. "I can hold my own, but I was hoping for a chance to speak with you before dinner."

The Elf-lord regarded him from head to toe, "Are you in need of healing?"

"Oh... No." Legolas gave a startled, self-conscious laugh. "I want to speak with you about a personal matter, something I want to bring your attention to before it can become a rumor."

"Of course. Let us retire to my office where we can speak without fear of being overheard." 

The Lord of Lothlorien chose his to locate his private space within a natural hollow in the Mallorn tree under a beautifully carved roof which glowed bright white even in the daylight. It was an intimate space, and Legolas felt a twinge of disappointment when they were surrounded by maps and shelves of scrolls and books, but nothing of the darker side of Celeborn's personality was apparent.

"If you were expecting to find someone bound and gagged and awaiting my paddle, I'm sure this room will come as a... disappointment."

Legolas felt his face grow warm with chagrin. "I was not expecting anything in particular," the Prince lied. 

Celeborn patted his shoulder as he moved around Legolas to take the chair behind his desk. "I have a suite of rooms, not a considerable distance from here, which serves as my nasque studio. Unfortunately, I postponed most of the paddlings until after Midwinter." He locked eyes with the younger man. "I wanted to be certain I had plenty of time to spend with our honored guests."

The implied meaning of Celeborn's confession sent a delicious shiver through Legolas. The Lord had cleared his schedule for him, to devote his time to him. A shy thank you was all Legolas could think to say.

"No less than you deserve, young Prince, on your first official visit to my lands." He motioned a hand to one of the two high backed chairs facing his desk. "Please, take a seat. I will send for refreshments and you can tell me why troubled."

"I..."

"Trust me, Legolas. There is nothing you could say which I have not heard before, and perhaps I can offer a fresh perspective. I would ease your worries, if you will only share the burden with me."

Legolas didn't know where to begin. "I no longer believe my father is responsible for the demise of my lovers." 

It was a start, at least.

"You spoke with Thranduil about your suspicions?" Celeborn considered this, and then sighed, "Such an accusation would not have made for an easy conversation to have with your sire."

The Prince winced, nodding, "It was not, but the conversation needed to take place and I have Haldir to thank for opening the door and shoving me through when my own courage was not up to the task."

Lord Celeborn's eyebrows shot up and he laughed, "Haldir, you say? I am anxious hear what has transpired between my Marchwarden and your King. Given their first meeting, and Haldir's wounded pride, I am certain it will prove entertaining."

With a deep breath, Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat and told him, "Someone poisoned Haldir's wine cup with maca extract." Celeborn's mirth died as soon as the words left the Prince's mouth, and Legolas hastened to add, "My father took him into the Royal Suite and did what he could to assist him in his time of need."

"Maca is a stimulant which heightens the senses and arouses the body to the point of near madness, an almost animal lust."

"I have experienced the effects, personally."

This left Celeborn shocked to the point of speechlessness, his face a blend of concern and outrage.

"In my case, it was an elleth who had designs on bedding me for my tenth midsummer. Her family was harshly punished by the King, stripped of their lands and titles."

"And who has done this abhorrent thing to my beautiful, faithful Haldir?"

Legolas sighed. "We do not know. I believe it could be the person who attacked my other lovers, but who and why remain a mystery. My father asked Haldir to stay behind and I believe they are hunting the perpetrator."

"You are not sure."

"I only learned of the poisoning days after the fact. Lillien confided the story to me on the journey here. She thought I knew."

"Haldir hid this from you?"

"He did and I intend to make my displeasure known when next we meet."

Celeborn tapped his chin, thoughtfully. "I know Haldir's mind and he would suffer such an insult in silence to spare you more guilt."

"I do not need to be spared. If I put a target on his back, it is my right to bear the guilt. He is a friend, and my lover."

"Legolas..."

Legolas launched himself from his chair to pace the room. And when he turned, Celeborn was before him. His fingers stroked Legolas' cheek tenderly. "You have enough guilt. At some point, you will have to let it go, my Prince, or it will become impossible to move forward with your life."

"I will deem to let it go only when I know the culprit is caught and punished."

"I understand. I do, but I have borne witness to the ruin which comes from revenge. It is far better for Thranduil and Haldir to track his poisoner." His hands rested lightly on Legolas' shoulders, and then he gripped them to put the Prince's body against his in an embrace. In his ear, Celeborn whispered, "Even the hint of Thranduil baring responsibility for the deaths of his own people has troubled me greatly since Midsummer. I am relieved to know he is not a kinslayer."

Legolas pulled back to look into his eyes. "As am I," he told the Elf-lord, feeling his throat tighten. "The knowledge however does not make my father any less incomprehensible to me."

Celeborn huffed a small laugh, and his fingers toyed with one of Legolas' braids. "What has he done, now?"

"Lillien told me she and my father were lovers, decades past."

"Really?" Celeborn's smile grew wider, and it was obvious he didn't get salacious gossip about other Eldar often as Lord of Lothlórien.

The Prince wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I think they are in love."

"This development has earned your disapproval." The Elf-lord smirked, "Are you jealous?"

Legolas was quick to answer the charge with a violent shake of his head, "No. My father would like nothing more than for me to love Lillien, and her, me in return." He sighed. "We are friends and it will never be more than that. I am indignant on her behalf for the pain he has caused her. I knew nothing of their relationship, she said it... Ended badly. Lillien deserves to be happy. She..."

"Perhaps, it would be best to let your King sort out his own romance."

"Lillien may be pregnant. Here. Now."

Celeborn raised an eyebrow at him. "That would make for an interesting development come next Midwinter, would it not? We have not had a child born in the Golden Woods in over a hundred years."

"If I behaved in such a manor with any Lady in our court, my King would demand I marry the elleth immediately. And I do not think even begetting a babe with a servant of the lowest birth would be enough to stop him from insisting."

"Children are a blessing to the Eldar, no matter the sometimes complicated lineage of their parents."

Legolas nodded, "I said a prayer to the Valar, but I think it was rather selfish of me. The idea of a sibling, even after so long as the only child of our King, appeals to me."

Lord Celeborn hugged him, again, for that. He pulled back and threw an arm over Legolas' shoulder as he said, "You could make a child of your own. As I have told my grandsons, it is not terribly complicated, and the acts required in the begetting can be quite enjoyable."

"Now, in this, you begin to sound like my father. Haldir told me the King warned him my Silvan brethren might try to get silver haired babes from him."

Celeborn pressed an affectionate kiss to the Prince's cheek. "As the Men of the North are fond of saying, Haldir has larger... Fish... to fry, in your father's halls this Midwinter." 

"Haldir has his heart set on bedding my father," Legolas confirmed. "I think after the maca, he has at least partially succeeded."

"What? No disapproval from you on his plans?"

Legolas shook his head, "Better he keep my father's thoughts far away from Lillien."

Celeborn's head tilted as he regarded Legolas thoughtfully, "You will need to resign yourself to the idea of a relationship being forged between your father and Lady Lillien if there is a child to be brought forth." He waggled his eyebrows, "I, for one, imagine such a possibility for redemption will be good for your King. Thranduil has grieved your mother's death and stewed in his guilt for too long."

As if on cue a servant arrived with a tray, and they ate in companionable silence. 

When he finished the fruit and cheese set before him, Legolas asked, "Can I see your studio?"

"Of course." The smug, happy expression on Celeborn's face told Legolas he'd asked the right question.

They descended the main staircase, receiving greetings from those they encountered. At the halfway point, Celeborn led Legolas across a wide bridge to another tree, not quite as large as the Mallorn they had been in. Looking up, the Prince once again caught a glimpse of a face in the line of Elda above him, and his breath caught. He was certain, now, it was Tauriel with some sort of glamour overlaying her features. After the shock and elation of knowing she was alive faded, Legolas was left feeling sad. The only reason she would wear such a disguise was for his benefit. 

"Have you been reading the book I left for you?" Lord Celeborn asked, pleasantly. 

Legolas felt the Elf-lord's eyes searching his face, and he knew he was blushing. "I have. It is... Insightful."

"Yes. I supposed it would be." The pair didn't stop climbing until they neared the flets at the very treetops. "Here we are." 

Celeborn let Legolas go before him, no doubt want to see his reaction. 

The main room was an oval circled by three smaller half circles each two steps lower. In the smaller spaces the majority of the space was taken by a single apparatus. If he'd not read the book, Legolas might have feared the black, padded monstrosities, but he found as he took note of each, he could recall the names as well as the basic uses. 

The first was a Cross, but while the two arms did indeed cross, they formed an x. 

The second was a Horse. The illustrations Celeborn's book provided for the uses of this piece of furniture had set Legolas to masturbating twice that night in his candlelit bedroom. He imagined himself naked and bound with his bare arse in the air awaiting... Something. Perhaps, it would be a paddle stinging his vulnerable cheeks, but Legolas hoped it was the insertion of a long, thick gwib into his bottom. 

There was a tinge of amusement in Celeborn's tone as he said, "You like Horses, I see." He walked past Legolas to the third room, which held a large bed covered with smooth, brown leather. 

Legolas eyed the bed, and then his gaze flicked to the entrance of Celeborn's studio, which was open, with only a sheer drape of white silk for a door. 

"This is not a place for shyness, my Prince. You have nothing to be ashamed of, no reason to want to hide the supple strength of your limbs from those who would be your fervent admirers."

Still, Legolas had rarely participated in the casual, comfortable nudity of those around him. His father had not forbidden it, as such, but Legolas feared words of censure from his sire for allowing his body to be displayed.

"You are far from home. Thranduil's prudishness cannot touch you here. This is a safe space."

Legolas had his doubts, now, that he would want to have sex when it was possible for anyone to walk in and witness. "Do you ever engage in more than just nasque in these rooms?"

Celeborn chuckled. "If it will ease your mind, when I intend to have intimate relations, I post a guard at the foot of the final flight of stairs to warn others away."

It did ease his mind... A little. "I should not want this. My father finds the idea of erotic submission incomprehensible."

"Not everyone is interested in testing the limits of intimacy or surrendering control. Thranduil hates being out of control." 

There was a bell, and Legolas was stunned to realize it was a call to dinner. 

"We can come back here, tomorrow, and you can ask the questions I know are forming in the back of your thoughts."

"I would like that."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harma titta- tiny treasure

Tauriel recognized the familiar soft warmth of Lillien's body even before she opened her eyes to confirm it. Her brain was slow to make the assertion that they were not back in her rooms in the Elvenking's Halls, but high in the treetop city of Caras Galadhon and her lover should not know she was here, let alone be as good as naked in her bed. 

A few stolen moments proved all Tauriel had before Lillien's violet eyes opened and blinked at her in drowsy confusion. Lillien gasped, beyond horrified to find herself in a strange bed, and launched herself away from Tauriel with a heartbreaking cry of alarm. 

Lady Galadriel's glamour was still altering Tauriel's facial features, and it was no wonder Lillien had been confused. She followed her from the bed, hastily pulling on her robe, then Tauriel made her way to where Lillien was being comforted by the Lady Arwen on the edge of the next talan. She listened in on the conversation, worried for her friend and lover. 

"What has happened, Lillien?" Arwen prompted the distraught woman gently. 

Lillien rested her head on Arwen's shoulder as she sobbed. A few deep breaths to quiet her sobs and she was able to manage, "Something is wrong with me... with my dream-walking. They are getting worse instead of better. I woke..." Her voice broke. "I awoke just now in the bed of a complete stranger." 

Arwen looked up and saw Tauriel watching from above, their eyes met and held. Her arms tightened around Lillien, her hands working in soothing circles on her back. "Tell me of what you were dreaming, Lillien."

The elleth sniffed, "A lover... One who is lost to me. I dreamt I was in her arms. Much time has passed, but it was as if I was back home and we were together and I could finally rest..." Her voice raise in growing alarm. "I fear something in me is broken, my Lady. I have no control."

"Dreamwalking is never an easy ability to master," Lady Galadriel told her, appearing beside her quite suddenly and scattering the small crowd of curious onlookers with a single sharp look. 

Galadriel's lips quirked, like she wanted to smile at how she made the people under her charge scatter, but knew she shouldn't. 

"You are fatigued, Lillien, and adjusting to life in a strange place which is far from your home. There will be a logical explanation for what has happened tonight, and I promise you we shall endeavor to find it. You must not work yourself into such a state."

Tauriel felt a tear slip from the corner of her eye, because she'd known the same peace and contentment in the moments before Lillien awoke and fled in a fit of horror at waking beside Tauriel, for she did not recognized her friend and former lover with the glamour in effect. 

Her eyes met Galadriel's, and the Lady's gaze held a question? Did she wish to continue her deception, or would she reveal herself to LIllien? 

Tauriel answered not with words, for those were insufficient to the task at hand, to making things right with her dear friend. Her legs moved the distance between them as if drawn by an imaginary cords and her hands found Lillien's shoulders, making the other woman look up at her. She felt the prickly tingle of the glamour falling away from her face, "There is nothing wrong with your dream-walking, Lilli. You caught me out is all, even though I was hiding behind a mask, and contenting myself with merely watching you from the shadows."

"Tauriel? It is you?" Lillien breathed. "The unfamiliar face is but a glamour, but you... You have changed the color of your hair. Was it to hide your identity from us?" There was a note of hurt in her voice, and her lips formed an adorable pout. 

Tauriel winced, feeling guilt settle upon her. "Not from you, Lilli. I did not know you had been invited to come and study with Lady Galadriel. I was surprised, and more than pleased, to see you arrive with..." She stopped short of saying his name.

Lillien's eyes widened, understanding what Tauriel could not bring herself to say. "You did know Legolas would be coming to Caras Galadhon for a visit."

"Yes."

"But why did you decide to hide yourself, Tauriel? Legolas loves you. He has never been the same since your banishment."

Tauriel winced, again. "Yes, I know."

"The King was wrong to banish you, he acknowledges it was a grave mistake. He regrets his haste."

Tauriel sighed. This was neither the time or the place to discuss King Thranduil. All she needed for this night to get much worse was for their Prince to appear, drawn by the commotion. "Thranduil is King and can banish his Wood-elves as he sees fit."

"Thranduil is not infallible," Lillien told her firmly. 

There was so much hurt in her expression Tauriel felt the need to hug her, so she pulled Lillien close, inhaling her lilac scented hair and the wondrous scent that was just Lillien. Something told her she wasn't going to like the story behind Lillien's pain. "I want you to tell me all that has happened, but not here." She looked up to find more Elves gathering to see what all the fuss was about in the corridor outside the normally quiet bedrooms hours after midnight. "Come back to my room. Let me hold you, Lillien, if only for this night..."

Lillien nodded, wiping her eyes. "I would like that very much, Tauriel."

"I think we will not meet for a lesson on the morrow," Galadriel told Lillien. "It is clear you require rest, but I would like for you to join me in the upper garden for afternoon tea. Both of you."

Tauriel nodded, hand stroking Lillien's hair back from her tear streaked face, tenderly. "We will, my Lady. And I will see to it Lillien rests."

The Lady's eyebrows rose just a bit, and her smile was knowing. "I will have meals delivered to your rooms, then. You have much to catch up on." Galadriel hesitated, then added, "Do not push our fair Lillien to speak of those things which cause her pain. She must be allowed to find her own time and manner in which to broach the subjects which burden her soul."

Tauriel nodded, "Would you... Be so kind as to restore the glamour, my Lady?"

"Of course."

The prickle of magic made the hair rise on Tauriel's arms. "Thank you."

"We consider you one of our elleth, now, and I for one have no desire to return you to a King who does not value your true worth."

There was nothing Tauriel could say to that, so she offered the High Elven Lady a smile heavy with gratitude before scooping Lillien into her arms and carrying her up to her room. 

 

The former lovers and dear friends lay curled together for a time in silence, and then in a tiny voice, Lillien said, "I love him so much. What am I going to do?" The words cut off with a yawn.

Tauriel winced. Had Lilli and Legolas finally found love in her absence? "Who do you love? Legolas?"

Lillien gave a little huff of confusion and whispered, "Thranduil."

Tauriel couldn't believe her ears. Lilli loved their cold, aloof King? 

If she meant it, then Tauriel could understand why the other woman was so troubled. Secretly loving the beautiful Prince was bad enough, to love their damaged monarch was certainly a problematic situation. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

At the appointed hour, Lillien and Tauriel left their ongoing reunion in Tauriel's rooms and joined Lady Galadriel in the upper garden for refreshments. 

Lillien followed Tauriel's lead and took a seat on the blanket facing Galadriel as if she had done this many times before, and was rewarded with a gentle smile from the golden haired Lady of Caras Galadhon. She eyed them both for a time while sipping her tea, and eventually nodded approvingly, "You are both much improved from your late night."

"Yes, my Lady," Tauriel told her.

Lillien was quick to agree, "I cannot remember the last time I slept more than a few scant hours without waking."

"Will you answer a question for me, Lillien?"

"Of course, my Lady. What is it you wish to know?"

Galadriel set her cup in its saucer and leaned close to the younger woman, lifting a finger to lightly touch the chain around Lillien's neck and the ring it held just above the neckline of her pale blue dress. "How is it you come to have a ring of King Thingol on a chain round your neck?"

Lillien sighed, fingering the chain and peering at the ring Thranduil chose to give her before her departure. "I did not know this was such a rare and special ring."

"Oh, it is quite valuable and not something the giver would choose to part with lightly." She continued to stare at it, a slight frown creasing her forehead, "I am trying to decide if it was given as some sort of a message to those who see it, or if it is merely a token of affection from your King."

Tauriel's eyes widened in recognition, "That is a ring I have seen many times before, but never anywhere but on the second finger of King Thranduil."

Lillien's expression fell, and her chin lowered in defeat. "The King put it on me himself in the moments before we road out. He said it would ensure safe passage in any lands I might find myself in."

"Yes," Galadriel agreed, "This it will do. It is an old custom to wear a ring as a symbol of familial connection, or right of passage in travels." This bought up the next question, "Did he expect you would journey beyond the borders of our land?"

Lillien bit her lower lip, then sighed, "I do not believe the King knows what to expect from my trip to Caras Galadhon. It was undertaken rather suddenly. And I feel if King Thranduil had been given more time to think on it, he would have found some way to keep me from making the trip at all."

"Your observation is more true than you know," Galadriel told her, with a knowing grin. "Haldir had instructions to see you delivered whether your King gave his blessing or not. I was surprised Thranduil assented as quickly as he did. And it makes me wonder if Haldir remained behind to ensure your return to the King's Halls."

Lillien was quick to deny it, "Haldir chose to stay." She glanced at Tauriel and bit her lip to keep from saying more. 

Galadriel seemed to accept her assessment of the situation. "There is history between Thranduil and Haldir." She met Lillien's eyes and added, "And there is also history between you and your King."

"I love him," Lillien confessed, simply stating it as a fact, and not one which had any emotional weight. In fact, she felt numb, more so than she expected to feel given the circumstances. 

The Lady poured herself, and them, more tea. 

It was Tauriel who asked, "When did you fall in love with the King, Lilli?"

"It is a phase we all go through, is it not? Thranduil is just too beautiful and he radiates such strength and confidence and wisdom," Lillien answered honestly. "And once an intelligent person realizes the King neither wants nor needs love, they move on to find someone more... approachable, more open to feeling and less like a beautiful ice carving."

"That is quite a harsh assessment of your King," the High Elven lady commented dryly. 

Lillien nodded, "I am not such a smart person and I never wanted to find someone more able to love me in return. Such is my folly."

"You do not need to speak more of it if it causes you pain, my dear."

Lillien offered the Lady a wan smile, "The pain has passed, my Lady. Thranduil never meant to hurt me, and I have long since forgiven him." In the back of her mind, she weighed the idea of simply confessing to Galadriel everything. She'd felt lighter after she shared her secret with Legolas on the journey, and perhaps it was speaking of her loss which would finally put the tiny ghost to rest. 

Taking a deep breath, Lillien said the words, "We were intimate... For a time. That time passed and we moved on."

Tauriel's eyes were as big as the saucers their teacups rest upon as she took in this revelation. "You and Thranduil are lovers?!" Her tone was both awed and scandalized. 

"Legolas had much the same horrified reaction when I told him during our journey here," Lillien said. 

"It was a dark time in our lands. We lost many good warriors in that battle, and the whole of the Woodlands grieved. Legolas chose to go North to seek the Rangers rather than return without you." She winced. "I tried to convince our King to bring you home, Tauriel. I petitioned him many times to send a messenger, a letter, anything to let you know you were not, nor would you ever be, forgotten. I almost had Thranduil convinced, and then I fell ill and things were never the same between us." 

"How is it Legolas did not know until you came here?" Tauriel asked, confused and slightly disbelieving. 

"Whispers followed me for decades, but most had long since forgotten by the time Legolas returned. No one spoke of it to him, so he never knew."

Galadriel was frowning at her, eyes keenly scanning her face. "From the moment you first arrived in Caras Galadhon, I detected a wrongness in your aura, Lillien. As if something is keeping you off balance... Would you be open to my searching you, now, for a possible cause?"

Lillien nodded, "Of course, my Lady. Do whatever you feel is necessary."

Galadriel moved until her knees touched Lillien's as they sat cross-legged facing each other. Galadriel's fingers were cool on Lilli's cheeks, her touch feather-light. "There is something. It lingers dark and insidious in you. Tauriel, you have demonstrated exceptional skill with healing... Your instructors are pleased with your progress, are they not?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Join with me, now. Kneel behind Lillien and place your hands on her shoulders. I do not think this shadow can escape if there are two of us hunting it."

Tauriel's hands gripped Lillien's shoulders lightly, her touch warm as she searched Lillien's body with her magic. "You are right. I can feel... something. It is like a layer of oil floating on water, fowling it in places."

"Yes, just so," Galadriel told her. "I want you to push it to me, gather it up, and I will draw it out." She took an empty teacup and placed it in her lap. 

Whatever they were doing inside her made Lillien dizzy and nauseated in turns. She tensed and Galadriel's fingers on her face tightened, holding her immobile, but still as gently as she would cup an injured bird. 

Lillien shivered violently as it seemed to her ice and fire warred in her veins.

After what seemed an eternity, Tauriel's hands loosened on her shoulders. "I think that is all of it," the flame haired elleth stated, panting with effort. 

"Nearly." Lady Galadriel's left hand lowered to the teacup and black inky fluid dripped from her fingertips, perhaps a sip's worth. "There is one more place we must be certain is cleansed." She guided Tauriel's hand to a spot low on Lillien's abdomen, over her womb. 

A moment of shared concentration, and as one the pair let out a gasp of surprise. 

Galadriel's lips pursed, and she let out a quick, amused bark of a laugh. "Mae g'ovannen, harma titta," she murmured. 

Sitting back and glancing down into the teacup at the results of their efforts, the Lady told her, "We are finished, Lillien. You are healed; all has been set right. Your body is once more as it should be."

"Do you know what this is?" Galadriel asked Tauriel, her lips curled slightly in disgust as she contemplated the sludge.

Tauriel nodded, solemnly. "Poison. Someone poisoned Lillien." Her expression darkened as she demanded, "Who would do such a despicable thing?"

"I fear it is most likely the same person responsible for poisoning Haldir's wine with maca," Lillien told her. "The King and Haldir are intent on hunting and punishing this person."

Lady Galadriel's own eyes narrowed, "Thranduil has allowed a viper to reside in your midst." It was not a question. "This poison is insidious, the taint of it clung to you for far longer than it should have. We have freed you of it, once and for all." 

"Thank you," Lillien told them. "I feel lighter somehow... better than I have in a very long time."

Galadriel nodded, "I imagine you do, child." 

Her eyes went to Tauriel, and the corner of her mouth curved up. "We have made a very curious discovery, Tauriel and I. It appears, Lillien, you will give your King and the Woodland Realm a perfect and healthy Princess next Midwinter. But fear not, poison did not reach her, for she is not yet large enough to share your blood."

Lillien blanched, the good feelings of being well and truly healed slipping away to be replaced by a sinking feeling of shock. "You must be mistaken, my Lady." She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "It was only the one time. I cannot possibly be pregnant."

"The King knows how babies are made... If he didn't want a child, Thranduil had no business bedding you and spilling his seed into your body." Tauriel's tone was scathing. "I cannot believe you are lovers with Thranduil," Tauriel said, quietly horrified. 

The Lady found this amusing despite the gravity of the situation, "Thranduil can be charismatic and charming. The Grey Lords of Doriath always seemed as cold as the Northern Wastes to me. King Thingol was the very pinnacle of icy arrogance and disdain. When I found love with Celeborn, I discovered ice can burn as hot as fire." 

To Lillien, she said, "You have learned this, as well."

Lady Galadriel rose and Tauriel and Lillien followed suit. "We will speak more of this, in time. For now, you may want to rest. It would be best not to mention the baby to anyone quite yet, or your relationship with King Thranduil. I have asked your aunt and uncle to a meeting here in two days. They live some distance from Caras Galadhon. Do no worry needlessly, Lillien. You are safe here. I will not let anyone harm you or our Princess."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tissue warning. Really sad. Legolas and Lillien take a look in Galadriel's mirror.

Legolas followed Lillien into the garden and she was suddenly very glad the Lady included the Prince in her summons. Having sweet, kind Legolas at her back gave her a small measure of courage. 

They stopped before the pedestal in the center of the space and watched Galadriel collect a silver pitcher of sweet, clear water from the fountain and filled the deep basin of her mirror. 

"Come forward, young ones, and gaze into my mirror."

"I'm afraid," Lillien told her, honestly terrified by what she might see.

Legolas took her hand in his, guiding her forward. 

"Do you know what we are meant to see?" The Prince asked the beautiful, serene Lady, making her smile, just a little, "The Mirror can show many things: history, the forces currently at work, or even things which might yet come to pass if a certain path is taken or disregarded. I do not know what it is you will see, but I am certain we must view it together."

Lillien frowned at the bowl of water as if it were filled instead with highly venomous snakes, but she offered a wan smile to Legolas to show him she was ready to proceed.

At first, Lillien saw only her own reflection in the gently rippling waters, but then she felt a tug in her mind, like she was being pulled down under the surface. It was only Galadriel's warm hands on her shoulder which kept her from fleeing. 

"Peace, child. The Mirror has no power to harm you." Her voice made Lillien's entire body feel heavy and sluggish, as if she were on the edge of sleep.

A terrible howl of pain pierced the silence, and Lillien was no longer in Galadriel's garden. She stood in arch ceilinged opulence of King Thranduil's bedchamber. Her eyes scanned the room for the source of the scream and gasped as she realized it had come from herself, writhing and keening in the center of the furs covering the enormous four posted bed. Her hair was matted with sweat to her forehead and she looked as pale as death itself. 

As she watched, the other Lillien let out a second blood curdling shriek and the sound raised the hair on the back of her neck. She remembered very little of that night, and for that Lillien was now eternally grateful. 

The King's personal healer knelt on the bed between her knees, the lower half of her pale blue nightdress, as well as his hands, stained crimson with her blood. 

Galadriel's whisper floated to her, over the sound of her screams, "This child is not the first you have carried for your King..." 

"No," Lillien confessed, forcing herself to witness the vision, though she desperately wanted to close her eyes.

After a time, the healer looked up at the King, eyes glassy with unshed tears and jaw muscles taunt with controlling his expression. He offered the tiny silk wrapped bundle to Thranduil. "The ellon will never draw breath, my Lord. His fea is gone from this little body."

The King took his son in both hands tentatively, reverently. 

Silent tears slipped down Thranduil's cheeks as he studied the miniature angelic face, then loosened the smooth wrappings to examine a fist that would never grasp his finger. His voice broke, as he asked, "How will I tell Lillien we have lost our son? If she lives, the despair will steal what strength remains in her, and then I will lose them both." He clutched the baby over his heart, and offered up a plea to the Valar for a miracle, but knowing such a mercy could not be granted to him. 

"I was given Legolas, and I am unworthy to ask another such miracle of the Valar," the King concluded, "but I ask of you, mellon, do everything you can to save Lillien. I've lost one of the few remaining pieces of my heart this day, and I will have no further use for this life if Lillian is gone from it."

The healer met Thranduil's eyes and nodded his understanding. As a friend of many years, and one of the only people the King completely trusted, he understood what the King was telling him, how tenuous Thranduil's hold on this life was. "My Lord, Lillien has lost much blood. I need to call in others to assist me in saving her life, if you will allow it." He hesitated. "I have hope we can save her, but for the sake of her future within your Halls, we should discreetly remove her to her rooms before the other healers come. Your man-servant can be trusted to carry her. I will have someone fetch him immediately." 

He stroked Lillien's brow with a damp cloth. "The pain has become too great, Lillien has lost consciousness. It is a mercy..." 

"Do what you feel is right, of course. Lillien has suffered enough this night, but I would know what has caused this tragedy, if a cause can be found."

"Yes, of course, my Lord." He stood and straighten his robes, on his way to the wash stand, the healer paused and added, "I'm so sorry for the loss of your son, Thranduil. You have known more grief than any I have ever had the privilege to serve. I will do whatever I can to see you do not lose your new love, as well."

"Thank you."

The healer nodded, washed his hands and hurried out of the King's bedchamber. 

His departure allowed the last remaining vestiges of Thranduil's steely control to slip away. 

The Woodland Realm's King sank to his knees, still holding the tiny baby over his heart, and issued a howl the likes of which none could make save in the depths of such intense pain, such grief, it was more animal than reasoning being. 

The brutally raw tenor of his agony caused Lillien's heart to break all over again, for his hidden suffering over their shared loss. 

Galadriel's mirror revealed the awful reality of what she'd missed, and while it was no surprise to her to know Thranduil grieved, she hadn't known he'd taken all of the blame for the horror of that night as a sign of his own unworthiness to be loved. 

It explained much about his behavior in the days and years that followed. 

The vision shimmered, wavering and changing to a garden she knew well. It was her favorite place... Thranduil's private garden. They'd made love many times on the soft grass, with only the stars to witness their passion. 

"It is the Royal garden," Legolas confirmed.

"Yes."

"Is he doing what I think he is doing? Did he lay the child's remains to rest in his garden?"

"If he did, Thranduil did not speak of it to me. I've always wondered."

In his hands, Thranduil had a box carved from bone bleached a pure, perfect white. He pressed his lips to the intricately decorated lid, and Lillien could read the inscription, 'Prince of the Woodland Realm, Second Son of Thranduil Oropherion.' "I do not know if it is to Mandos you have gone, little one, but if it is in my power to do so, I will find you. If only to tell you how sorry I am that I was not given the chance to be a better father to you than I was to Legolas. Mithrandir reminded me a child is a more precious treasure than all the gems in the world. I'd forgotten, in my grief and loneliness. I did not bestow upon you a name, with the smallest hope the Valar will find it in their mercy to give you a second chance." 

They watched, transfixed, as a tearful Thranduil buried the box at the foot of the tallest tree in the garden, a huge conifer tucked back in an out of the way corner. He said a prayer to the Valar and left a small bundle of herbs as an offering.

The mirror wavered, once again, and Lillien had to grasp the stone of the edge to remain standing upright, so weak were her knees. She didn't think she could take much more.

They were in her rooms, now, with Lillien sleeping in the bed, pale and still save for the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. 

Thranduil entered and crossed the distance to the bed in two long strides. 

Lillien frowned as the King did the strangest thing: he removed his boots and his outer robes and climbed onto her narrow bed with her. 

As if even deeply asleep she was instinctively aware he was with her, sleeping Lillien rolled onto her side with a small whimper. Thranduil fitted his body behind hers and wrapped her in his arms, protectively. "If you are leaving me this night, my love, you will not have to make the journey alone. I will go with you."

"Thranduil... No!" Lillien called out to him, though she knew he should not be able to hear her. 

The King pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "I have seen enough death," he told her. "Too much. Legolas will make a fine King, a more than worthy successor."

But Lillien had not died that night, or any of the ones that followed. 

Thranduil had come to her and told her they must not continue as lovers. 

He'd broken her heart.

Just as suddenly as it has begun, the vision was ended. It was a relief to be free of the pull of the mirror's power, and Lillien's pounding heart and the urge to wretch calmed as soon as she stumbled away from the pedestal. 

Legolas rushed to her side, offering her the embrace she desperately need to reassure her the nightmarish visions were over. 

"Thranduil is... Damaged." Lillien told him, shuddering breaths as she struggled to regain control of herself. "Losing his wife broke his spirit. Too often, Thranduil uses wine and herbs to dull the pain, to make living tolerable. For a short time, he was different with me; I caught glimpses of the person he must have been before her loss. My opinion matters to him, my disapproval influenced him to drink less."

"Now, you have seen his hidden pain," Galadriel told her. "And you see he wanted your child, grieved the loss as any father would."

"Thranduil insisted he wants no more children. Legolas is his heir, and he is enough."

"Whatever healing you managed to work on his heart was not enough to survive losing your child," Galadriel told her. "I cannot imagine anyone not wanting a child, they are few and far between for our kind. It is more likely Thranduil chose to lie about not wanting more children, preferring to run away from your love rather than gamble what is left of his heart on another devastating loss."

"Oh mercy," Lillien whispered. "You seem so certain he is lying to me. It made perfect sense to me, what King would want a child to challenge Legolas' claim to the throne of the Woodland Realm."

The Lady tutted, as a teacher would when her favorite student missed an obvious answer, her gaze turned to the Prince. "Legolas holds no desire to be King after Thranduil. If I can see it in him after five minutes of his company, it will be obvious to his father."

"A Princess could become Queen after my father," Legolas stated. "Our people will adore her. How could they not? With you as her mother, the baby will undoubtedly grow to be intelligent, graceful and beautiful."

The White Lady smirked at the Prince's defense of Lillien's baby, of how protective he was already of his half sister. "I have always believed Queens can rule as well as Kings."

"Lillien, you will make an excellent Queen for the Woodland Realm," Legolas told her, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

"Thranduil will never..."

Galadriel stopped Lillien's objection by putting a finger to her lips. "Thranduil will find it is far too late to offer objections. By Noldor custom, you became his Queen the first time he lay with you. Having borne him two children only solidifies the fact that you are his wife, and your union is indeed blessed by the Valar, contrary to what his guilty conscience may tell him." 

Galadriel's tone changed, "I have no intention of allowing Lillien, or a child, to return to the Elvenking's Halls until Thranduil's kinslayer has been dealt with."

Legolas swallowed hard at her steely edged pronouncement and nodded, "I agree. They are safest here. I would stay, too, so she does not have to go through this pregnancy alone."

"Legolas, please don't do that. I'll be fine."

"I could tell my father the baby is mine..."

"No. You will do no such thing," Lillien forbade him. "This is messy enough business without adding lies into the mix."

Galadriel agreed, "True. Lillien's kin will arrive this afternoon. We will give them the night to rest and refresh themselves from the journey and meet with them on the morrow." She put a hand on Legolas' arm, "If you wish to make a public show of solidarity with Lillien, that would be an ideal time. And, of course, they will have to be told of her pregnancy sooner or later. I would not have them believe Thranduil is so badly mannered toward the Lady he loves that he would put a child in her and not wed her, if at least only in secrecy."

Legolas nodded, "Yes. Of course." He looked to Lillien hopefully, "If you want me to come with you, that is, my Queen."

Lillien frowned at him. "I am not comfortable with such a title being handed to me behind Thranduil's back. I beg you to call me Lillien, as you always have, Legolas."

"As you wish, my Lady. I think you will begin to see why I enjoy time out from under my title."

"No matter what comes, what titles we bear, we are friends and allies," Lillien gave him quick hug before she turned to Galadriel. "My Lady, is there a place in Caras Galadhon for making offerings to the Valar? We have no such place, but I..." She didn't know what to say exactly.

The Prince put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. "I would like to make an offering or two myself."

"There is a garden devoted to the Valar. Would you like me to take you to it, now?"

"Yes, please. If you would..."

"Of course."


End file.
